Rhapsody in Steel
by Ringshadow
Summary: A story of a different color. ROB, one of the few unchanging things in the life of Star Fox, asks for an upgrade, and sets off a chain of events that rocks their lives.
1. Default Chapter

Chapter One: Caged Bird

            ROB sometimes wished that he could sigh.

            Really, it would be a useful motion.

            He watched over his shoulder as his crewmen, or owners, came onto the bridge, sinking into the comfortably worn chairs. They were deep in discussion, Slippy going over a stack of printouts, Peppy consulting a PDA. He had been listening since they had stepped on board the ship, of course. Little went on without his knowing, but as a somewhat passive ship AI, that was his duty.

            He spun the chair he sat in absently to face the four, pressing his long, metal fingertips together. How long had it been? Sixteen years, he knew, and he had a photographic memory for every day, every minute, compressed into databank after databank, accessible as he needed them. He escaped into them a lot, during the nights. As integral as he was, he wasn't really included into the team. Only Slippy really acknowledged his presence at all, and for that he was grateful.

            "… I can't believe we've had a two-hour discussion on what to do with extra money." Falco was saying, arms crossed and frowning just a bit. "Don't we deserve bonuses for what we've done?"

            "We're getting paid more then we figured for in the first place." Fox said. "Which is good enough for me. Are you sure we've put enough on this boat, Slippy?"

            "Yeah. We've cut a huge chunk off our debt, repaired the arwings. Everything is nominal here."

            ROB pondered that for the space of two seconds, checking with his computer systems. Yes, everything was as it should be. Still, it wasn't as it could be. How much money did they have floating, anyway? Enough to pay for repairs to the weak link in the system?

            "Excuse me."

            The group blinked, looking over at where ROB was sitting, the strange, lanky robot staring passively back at them. "What's up ROB?" Slippy asked, automatically the first to speak.

            "Everything is not nominal aboard this ship." ROB's fingers went to the wires that hooked from his wrists to the terminals, fidgeting, one of the very few 'human' habits he possessed. "There are a… few things that could stand to be adjusted."

            "Well, fire away by all means." Fox said. "What are we discussing here that isn't showing up in the reports?"

            "By Slippy's reports, everything is fine, however, it really depends on your viewpoints. I am speaking from the viewpoint of sixteen-year-old fast attack cruiser who is made fun of on a day-to-day basis by the newer cruiser AIs." ROB's voice came out very stiffly, more so then normal.

            "Ouch." Falco mumbled.

            "How long is a computer viable before it becomes outdated? I know all of you have home computers." He accessed his terminals, flying through webpages he had privately marked ages ago. Even AIs got bored, even AIs wanted things. Usually, it was functional, but not always.

            "Two years is usually the limit." Peppy said, already catching on to what ROB was leading into.

            "I am a computer." ROB tapped his own chest. "I am sixteen years old. As old as this ship. I have one hundredth the processing power of recent AIs, and that is compared to the slowest, least expensive model available."

            Fox looked at Slippy. "I thought you tried to keep up with that, Slip."

            "I keep ROB running, but that's all I can do." Was the defensive reply. "AI parts are expensive, and he's proprietary, so anything matching his make is hard to find, or completely impossible. The fact that his original frame is still good is a miracle."

            "One I do not want to have to depend on. If you wish for this cruiser to continue to function as it has, as a combat support unit, the weakest link has to be cut." ROB spread his hands. "And that weakest link is me."

            "Come on, ROB. We can't replace you." Fox protested, ears flattening back in alarm. He was two when he had first met this strange robot, and the impression had never left him, the tall frame, the cold intellect. ROB had even attempted to baby-sit him once, years ago before Slippy had permanently wired him into the bridge. That was a fond, well-worn memory, one that always came up when he looked at ROB, remembering the robot puzzling over Doctor Seuss and himself laughing hysterically.

            "No kidding. I've met some newer AIs. They don't compare to you." Falco said, frown deepening.

            "I am not asking to be replaced. I am asking for a complete upgrade." He ticked items on his fingers as he went. "This frame must go, everything but my personality and memory data. The memory and network banks in the terminals must be replaced as well to match my new frame. The trouble is, these things are not cheap at all. That's why your father never upgraded me Fox. He loved this ship, but he could never afford to do so. I am, for all intents and purposes, a well-loved low priority."

            "You aren't a low priority ROB…"

            "Then you will put ALL of the money left into my upgrade?"

            There was a long silence, and Fox laughed weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You had this discussion well thought out."

            "I have been thinking about it for at least six years." ROB admitted.

            "What do you mean by your 'frame'?" Falco asked. "I mean, I have a hunch, but…"

            "I mean go to a company that specializes in bodies of AI computers and completely rid myself of this body. I've got a company chosen, if you will allow it." He looked to Fox, praying that he'd agree to this. The money would be just enough for it, too, and he knew mercenary jobs were few and far between now.

            "You'd know best. I'm ok with this, ROB. It seems we've been neglecting you a bit, so get what you want as long as we can pay for it, all right?"

            "Thank you." He paused. "The ship will have to go to standby mode while landed for me to do this, and I will have to be taken to the company headquarters. Slippy, you'll also have to rip apart two of the terminals to remove the memory banks there."

            "I can do that. I'll drive you there as well." Seeing one of ROB's terminals pop up with a website, Slippy went over to it and fell into discussion with him, seeming a bit surprised with the choice.

            "Guess this solves the money issue, eh?" Falco stood up. "We on leave then?"

            "Yes, but keep your beeper on and with you." Fox shot him a look.

            "You are such a wet blanket sometimes." Falco shook his head and left, the door sliding closed behind him.

            "He'll be fine, Fox." Peppy said, tucking his PDA in his pocket. "He always is."

            "That's what worries me. I'm worried I'll have to pick him up for disorderly conduct or something." Fox sighed, standing and moving to look over Slippy's shoulder. "Incarna Corporation?"

            "Yeah, this is who ROB wants to do his upgrade." Slippy said. "They're fairly new to the field, but they're really good. They're specialists, working only with AIs."

            "Like how new?"

            "They just celebrated their three-year anniversary." ROB said. "They create beautiful frames. Totally undiscernable from living people."

            "So your body will be, well, human?"

            "Perfectly. Subroutines even control blinking and breathing, even during recharge cycles." ROB smiled. "And the neural nodes are hypersensitive, allowing the AI to have a sense of touch like a living thing."

            "I thought you had that already."

            "I can tell pressure, and I get warnings for damage. I also get a readout for temperature. That's about it."

            Fox looked at ROB, staring the flat optical band that served as the robot's eyes. "I never considered you a low priority, ROB. I just didn't know."

            "How could you have? No one told you. I can't hold grudges."

            "You told me you have one against Pigma."

            ROB made a grating noise that sounded like a laugh. "I just didn't like him. That's not a grudge."

            Fox laughed. "He always was a bigot."

            "I still don't understand why your father kept him on as a pilot, to tell the truth." The robot looked back at the website, fidgeting again. "So when are we going to do this?" He looked at Slippy. "Our current landing slip's contract is good for another week, and I only need one day for the transfer."

            "Why don't we go first thing tomorrow? It'll only take me about an hour to crack the terminals and pull the banks." Slippy blinked, tapping the screen. "Did you ever ask them for a time estimate?"

            "Transferring to a new frame is simple, less then an hour, and it will only take that long because I'm an older proprietary frame." ROB hesitated. "It'll take at least four hours for the memory banks to fully dump over to new ones."

            "That's a lot of time to spend in a waiting room, but ok. Tomorrow then."

            "Would you care if I tagged along?" Fox asked. "I don't mind long waits."

            "That's fine with me." ROB replied. "Just make sure you get up fairly early."

            "All right."

            Peppy yawned, walking onto the bridge, stretching his arms absently. The lights flickered on automatically, and he flopped down in one of the chairs, rubbing his eyes.

            "Having trouble sleeping?"

            He glanced up, looking at ROB, who looked back passively. "Yes. Still."

            "You've been doing this since the war. I still think you should see a doctor." The robot tutted.

            "I will eventually. I just don't want to hear the rest of the speech. 'Oh by the way, you also need to loose twenty pounds, and here's some arthritis medication,' et cetera." He sighed deeply. "I feel so old sometimes."

            "You think you do, try being the computer equivalent of two hundred." ROB grunted, turning to face one of the terminals for a second, then turning back.

            "Yeah, I caught that." He rubbed his chin. "Uh, your power's reading pretty low, ROB."

            "I'm aware of that. I've got eight hours of battery left, and that's all I need. I'm not doing anything that burns battery up fast in that time period."

            "Why are you still active right now, anyway?"

            "Your arrival on the bridge would have activated me in the first place, Peppy, but I'm actually carrying on a conversation with another AI named Athens. She's an eight-year-old AI in command of the Cornerian cruiser Justice."

            "Ah, I see. Old friend?"

            "Not exactly. She's got a body by Incarna Corps. She's filling me in on what to expect." ROB held up a finger, then another voice drifted onto the bridge, a cheerful woman's voice.

            "Hi! I'm Athens. You're Peppy right?"

            "That'd be me." Peppy sat down roughly, blinking when the image came up on the main screen of a young female horse, perched in a chair much like ROB's. "Reassuring ROB?"

            "Well, ah… not exactly. I was actually discussing with him whether or not he should get a full emotion upgrade." Athen's ears swiveled. "Older AIs don't always take it very well because of the system shock."

            "There's still a 95% success rate, though, so I still want to go through with it." ROB said, crossing his arms.

            "There also aren't many AIs as old as you still in existence with their original bodies… or in existence at all. You're lucky you're so loved." Athens retorted.

            "I'm not sure loved is the word. Dependable, maybe. The point is my minor-feed emotions chip isn't up to par anymore. It's hard to be friends when you can't feel friendship."

            "I'm just trying to impress upon you the danger that might be there."

            "I got it. Anything else I should know about?"

            "Something you haven't thought about, probably: clothing. Incarna Corps will give you two outfits, but all the clothing they give out is white. You'll have to see if you can get your owners to take you shopping before bringing you back to your ship."

            "White?" Peppy asked.

            "It's just something Incarna Corps does. They say it's because when you first get your body, it's brand new, you're basically brand new, unsoiled. You become innocent again." Athens said. "So your first outfit is all white to reflect that."

            "That's actually kind of interesting."

            "You're right, I'll ask them tomorrow." ROB said, going through maps in his head. "There's a mall about ten minutes from Incarna Corps. Fox shouldn't have too much of a problem with it. Anything else?"

            "Only other thing is you should think about your voice. You won't have a heavily digital voice anymore, you'll sound real." She tilted her head. "Personally, I think you should go with a British accent. It'd fit you."

            The robot chuckled. "Thank you, Athens."

            "Not a problem at all. Peppy, scans show you need rest. Go do so. I'm out." The screen went blank.

            "Like I need someone else nagging me." Peppy sighed, shaking his head.

            "Seems to me that you do. My comments have yet to make any sort of impression on you." ROB said absently, settling in and going to a lower-power mode. "Do try to get some rest, Peppy. The team does depend on you."

            "I know. That fact is the only thing that keeps me going nowadays." He stood, leaving the bridge, glancing over his shoulder at the prone robot. Tomorrow, everything was going to change. ROB was basically going to come to life fully for the first time. And Peppy had a gut feeling that the entire group was going to have to ride the changes out.

            "Do you need help, Slip?" Fox asked, crouching and peering into the terminal Slippy was half-buried in, disconnecting the briefcase-sized memory banks.

            "… No. You'll get to carry one of these, but I'm good for now. Brace ROB, I'm about to pull the first one."

            "I'm ready." ROB wanted to close his eyes, do something to prepare for the strange feeling he knew was coming. It hit him, and his fingers tightened on the arms of his chair, digging in as a decade of memories suddenly disappeared. He couldn't remember being turned on, couldn't remember Fox as a child. "Please. Don't drop that." He managed to hiss out as the first hard drive was pushed out to Fox.

            "We won't. There are cases by you, Fox, put that in one of them."

            "Got it." Fox gingerly picked up the drive and loaded it in, closing the case tight and looking at ROB, who looked back. "Are you all right?"

            "It's like a sudden amnesia. I only carry a year or so of memory in here." He tapped his chest. "The rest gets dumped into those."

            "It's got to be hard."

            ROB didn't reply, hissing again to himself as he felt the second memory drive go, feeling almost all memories of James slip through his fingertips.

            "You sound like you're in pain."

            The robot looked back at Fox, who looked at him with an odd expression on his face. "Some very minor reactions are programmed into me, even as old as I am. I can fidget, cry out in pain, laugh a little. I have never decided if these things were good or bad."

            "Hmm." Fox put the second drive in the case and stood as Slippy pulled himself out of the terminal, stretching his arms with a grunt. "You're covered in dust."

            "Yeah, I know. I just had to wear black, too." Slippy stood, brushing himself off absently. "Ready to be unplugged ROB?"

            "As I will ever be." The robot held out his wrists, watching as Slippy opened the hatches and disconnected the wires, the ship shutting down around them. "It's on neutral power. Lights on low, doors still working, but that's all. No security systems running."

            "I told the docks to keep a watch on the ship. They were good with it." Fox said, picking up one of the hard drive cases. "Let's take my car. You'll fit better in it."

            "All right." ROB stood, following behind Slippy and Fox, feeling an odd sort of sorrow and worry. He hadn't seen these corridors with his own eyes in a while, and wouldn't see them again… with these particular eyes. When was the last time he had rode in car? Had he ever? He couldn't remember, and fought down what hysteria he could feel. He had known that the time before the transfer was going to be unpleasant.

            The car ride was an almost silent affair, ROB giving Fox directions as was needed, going off of maps he had downloaded the night before. Slippy spent the time running diagnostics on the memory banks with his handheld, ROB looking over his shoulder absently at the readings.

            Incarna Corporation was a large office building downtown, with marble statues by the entrance of unsentient lions. They walked up the stairs easily, Fox holding one of the doors for Slippy and ROB. The lobby was quiet, empty except for a receptionist sitting at a half-circle desk.

            "Excuse me, we called and made an appointment." Slippy said, leaning on the counter.

            "For me, I'm getting a full upgrade." ROB added, folding his arms absently, tilting his head at the receptionist.

            She smiled and stood, holding out a hand. "I'm Persephone. A pleasure to meet someone of your seniority, ROB."

            He took her hand. "Interesting name."

            Her smile became a grin. "It's the name Incarna Corps gave me. I'm one of their most recent models."

            "You're a robot?" Fox blurted, eyebrows shooting up, staring at the lady deer, who looked back at him peaceably. "Jesus, you look alive."

            "Of course I do. Jason?"

            Another figure arrived during this, and he held out a hand to Fox with a grin. "I'm Jason, and before you ask, I'm living. I'm one of Incarna Corps robotics technicians, I'll be taking ROB from you for a while."

            Fox shook his hand. "I assume we leave him in good hands then."

            "By coming to our company, we guarantee that. Persephone? Could you show them to the waiting room?" Jason asked as he picked up both hard drives easily. "ROB, could you please follow me?"

            "Of course." ROB glanced at Fox and Slippy, then fell in step behind the technician, towering over him. "I take it that Incarna Corps does research on the robots that come to them?"

            "We look into it, if anything so we know the original maker and are therefore able to complete the work faster and with more efficiency." Jason replied, holding the elevator for the robot. "You're famous around here, so you're a special case."

            "Famous?"

            "Yes. You're one of the first carriers of a true emotions chip, no matter how minor of one. We based our technologies on that chip when we started out. Not to mention that you're completely custom-made, and have lasted this long. A bit of a legend among us technical people." Jason smiled up at him, tail wagging. He was a canine, a beagle actually, and ROB fleetingly wished he could return the smile. "It was flattering that you chose our company, believe me."

            "I wouldn't have chosen anyone else. So what is the first step?"

            "If you're worried about ROB, don't be. He's in good hands." Persephone said, watching as Fox and Slippy settled down, looking around the posh waiting room. "The TV is on a satellite, so you should be able to find something to watch. The magazines are from this month, and the coffee's fresh. If you need anything, I'm right down the hallway, so don't hesitate to ask me."

            "Thanks." Slippy said, smiling. "How long of a wait do you think we have?"

            "That depends on the protocol that ROB stores his memories in. Anywhere from three to five hours is fairly typical."

            "Thanks again." Fox said, watching her leave, then looking at Slippy. "I'm thoroughly creeped out."

            "What, by the fact that she isn't alive? I think it's cool."

            "You would."

            "I'm insulted."

            Fox laughed.

            "I feel like I'm in a morgue." ROB said, looking around. Perching on tables, eyes closed, hands folded, and chins resting on chests, were dozens of models, like empty bodies, all alive looking.

            "Lots of people say that." Jason admitted. "There are readouts beside each one, so you can just browse. Any body in here is within your price range, so go with what you like."

            ROB nodded absently and began to walk, lingering by a male red fox that reminded him of James in a spooky way, then moving on, looking back and forth. What did he want to be? He hadn't thought about that. He was going to stay male, but other then that, had no real thoughts on what his body would be. He browsed specs and looked at faces, finally stopping again in front of a smaller, slender body, one hand lingering on the spec sheet. A snowshoe lynx, he knew, looking at the long-fingered hands and graceful ears. The technical specs were good, and the face soft and gentle.

            "Have you made a decision?" Jason asked, joining him.

            "Yes, I have. I like this one."

            The beagle made a note, nodding. "All right, well, this is the part most AIs don't like. We're going to have to shut you down for about an hour."

            "I know." ROB shivered. "But I can deal with it. I've had to before for repairs and such." He watched as two other technicians arrived, doing a diagnostics on the body he had picked, and startled when the lynx body moved, lifting its head and opening its eyes, blinking blankly. "Why are you moving?" He asked, frowning at the body.

            Jason grinned. "Power has to be restored for diagnostics. The wake-me-up is part of that, makes sure the body is functioning currently. I know it's a bit, well, creepy, being a body with no mind is staring back at you."

            "A bit, yes." ROB lifted a hand touched one of the ears, watching it press back, away from his hand. The eyes on the body narrowed uneasily. "I think we should continue with the process. Could you lead the way?"

            "Sure thing." Jason led the way out of the show room, ROB glancing behind himself, even more uneasy when he noticed the empty body was placidly watching him walk away. "Is it watching you?"

            "Yes. Yes it is."

            "Good. It should be."

            The walk was a short one, ending in a room full of equipment. ROB, under direction, settled into a chair and exposed all of his data ports uneasily, watching as Jason and another technician who introduced himself as Michael connected lines to them, readouts coming up on a screen.

            "How do you feel?" Michael asked, looking at the old robot, whose hands were clasped tightly together over the metal chest, fingers locked and working. He reached out a hand and rested it over the two metal ones, stopping the movement. "It's ok to be nervous."

            "And I am. Other then that, I feel fine. Distant."

            "That's good. Are you ready for this?"

            "As I can be. I wish my owner was here."

            "I'm sorry that he can't be. We can't allow non-personnel living beings in the work rooms. I can offer you a hand to hold if that's what you want."

            "I wouldn't mind." ROB admitted, taking the technician's hand and sternly telling himself not to crush it as he watched a countdown spiral down on the screen he could see. Then everything plunged into blackness, and his grip slowly released.


	2. Chapter Two: Breath of Life

Chapter Two: Breath of Life

            ROB came back to awareness slowly, grasping for what little power was being fed to him, taking a proverbial look around as his systems came to life gradually around him. The chips he now existed in were new, he realized, and wanted to grin. The switch-over was apparently complete. Power came fully to him, and he routed it to outside systems, and for the first time, sky-blue eyes fluttered open.

            "How do you feel?" Jason asked, sitting next to the bed and watching as the snow leopard stirred slowly, no real pattern to the movement yet, nerves testing out new byways, limbs moving on purpose for the first time.

            "I'm not sure yet." ROB replied, looking at Jason, then slowly pushing himself into a sitting position so he could look down at himself. He was dressed completely in white, which went well with his fur he supposed, running one of his hands down the other arm, feeling for the first time what fur felt like, knitting his fingers into it for a second. "I feel good. Everything reads green."

            Jason grinned. "That's good. Are you ready to try walking yet?"

            "In a moment." He pushed himself to the edge of the bed, slowly rotating his arms, stretching joints, feeling the movement. It sent a hum through him, he could feel himself moving and he liked it. He had nerves, he could feel the fabrics he wore. "This is great."

            The beagle laughed, sitting back. "That's right, you're feeling for the first time aren't you?"

            "Yes." He looked over his shoulder, looking at his short tail, which whisked back and forth as he looked at it. "I don't have control over that, do I?"

            "Your subroutines do."

            "Ah, I see." ROB grinned, then slowly stood by the bed, letting his balance mechanisms take over, arms held out absently, shifting from foot to foot. "This is completely different from my old body. All the movement and balance routines are much more advanced."

            "Times change, and people change with them." Jason stood, moving beside him and offering a shoulder to lean on. "Let's take a walk."

            Fox looked up when Persephone appeared in the doorway, fighting the urge to yawn. He had actually nodded off for about half an hour, sleeping with his chin on his chest, eventually woke up because Slippy poked him awake, saying he had been unable to tell if he had been breathing or not. "Hey. Got news for us?"

            "ROB just woke up in his new body, and the memory dumps have about half an hour left. You can talk to him as he works on the paperwork if you like."

            "Paperwork?" Fox echoed as he stood, stretching his arms above his head.

            "Registration. Picture IDs, full name, things like that." 

            "So he finally looses a name that's in all caps, eh?" Slippy said as they followed her back down the hall.

            "If he wants to."

            They reached the lobby, and saw Jason standing there next to a snowshoe lynx, who was leaning on the high desk, contemplating a paper form. When they entered the room the lynx perked up, looking over at them and smiling uncertainly.

            "What do you think?" The lynx asked, voice pitched to a soft tenor, no scratchy digitalization or synthetic overtones. "I feel kind of strange, I mean before this I barely even had a nervous system…"

            "ROB?" Slippy asked, eyebrows shooting upward.

            The lynx nodded, smile becoming a grin, hands fidgeting with the pen they were holding. "How do I look?"

            "You fooled us, that's for sure." Fox managed a smile, looking down at the lynx, who was several inches shorter then him, alive-looking, eyes bright blue and intelligent looking. "I have a hard time believing that it's you."

            "Rest assured, it is, just a lot better now." Continuing to grin, he looked back to the paperwork. "I need a last name." He remarked as Fox and Slippy leaned on either side of him, looking at the forms. "I already decided I'd keep my name in its longer form – Robert – but I've never had anything resembling a last name."

            "Are there any restrictions on it?" Slippy asked.

            "No, there aren't. It can be anything he wants it to." Said Jason, accepting some coffee from Persephone. 

            Fox looked down at the form, then at ROB, who was still fidgeting with the pen, and wondered if ROB kept any of the good memories for himself. Did he remember trying to babysit Fox that one time? Did he remember playing computer games with him and Falco before they got involved in the war? It was strange, how much the AI had always been like family yet had always been background noise at the same time. No longer, he decided. Family was family in whatever form. "You can take McCloud, if you want to." He heard himself say.

            ROB looked at him in surprise, ears swiveling. "Are you serious?"

            "Perfectly. I've known you basically all my life. You're one of the few things I have left that's like family to me. So if you'd like to take my last name, you can."

            They looked at each other for a minute, and ROB smiled again. "Yeah, I think I like that." He turned back to the form, entering that last name with uncertain curves of ink. He'd never written by hand before, Fox realized with a start. He never had to, and here he was, figuring it out as he went. Or maybe it was just part of the programming. Either way, watching those new hands puzzle it out was strange, almost human. "I meant to ask, does my voice fit? This is default, but I can tweak its settings if I want to."

            "You sound fine." Slippy said, looking at the form absently. "Looks like you have most of this thing filled out already."

            "Yes indeed." He signed it slowly, then pushed it across the desk to Persephone. "Do I need to do anything else?"

            "No, that's it. All your IDs will be ready by the time your memory banks are done."

            "Thank you." 

            The trio sat down one of the sofas in the lobby, ROB's moves still uncertain. "Fox?" He finally asked, scratching one of his ears absently. "I know I have asked a lot of you so far, but could we pick up some clothing for me before we return for the ship?"

            "I suppose that's doable." Fox replied. "I think there is a shopping mall nearby."

            "There is."

            Jason walked over and handed Slippy a thick book. "Owner's manual. I understand you are the technical person on the ship, so if there are minor things you can fix them. Anything major should be delegated to us to fix."

            "All right." Slippy looked down at the book. "It looks like a phone directory for the inner city."

            Jason laughed out loud. "Usually people say dictionary, but either way it's a good comparison." He glanced at his watch. "ROB, brace yourself."

            "Why should he…?" Fox started, then gaped when ROB suddenly gasped, his head tilting back. "What's going on?"

            "The memory banks are coming online. We keep them wireless with a satellite-broadcast radius, so wherever he's at he can access them. We still have to run diagnostics, of course, but his memory is coming back and it's a bit of a shock."

            "That's definitely an improvement. I've met wired-in AIs who never want to be unplugged because of the memory loss." Slippy said, watching as ROB came back to earth slowly, breath sliding out. "Is he really breathing?"

            "He can survive in a vacuum, so no. It's a programmed subroutine to mimic living people more closely." Jason accepted a clipboard from Persephone. "I need you to sign this, Mr. McCloud."

            "What is it?" Fox took it, feeling himself go crosseyed at the tiny print.

            "It's your understanding of a new law that has now come into effect for ROB. There was a case after the war about AIs being able to defend themselves if a ship was boarded. A few were killed, and the captains and crews took it to court." Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "Basically, under the old interpretation of the Three Laws of Robotics, a warship could fire on an enemy ship but was not allowed to engage in hand-to-hand combat, or combat within the ship. So boarders could take the AI out of commission and have access to everything."

            "We're lucky we didn't get boarded during the war." Slippy admitted. "What's the new interpretation?"

            "That's the thing. Now military AIs, including ROB, are not Three Laws robots anymore. Now that he's been upgraded, he is free of those laws and allowed to download combat protocols. Don't worry, there is a safety protocol…"

            "I can't hurt someone who is considered an ally to my crew." ROB ended in a dry voice, having been listening to this as he mentally ran a finger down the list of his memories, removing some for immediate storage in his body memory. Some he liked more then others. Some were sources of joy. Others, he wished he could delete forever. "Unless it is self defense."

            "That is interesting, but I agree with it completely." Fox signed the paper and passed the clipboard back to Jason. "How do you feel ROB?"

            "Much better, actually." 

            Jason left, and the next twenty or so minutes were spent in silence, Slippy already absorbed in the owner's manual, Fox and ROB just sitting side by side quietly, watching the occasional person walk by. Fox spent most of it deep in thought. He remembered the stories of AI destruction during the war, and it always sent a pained ripple through the military. Many of the AIs went from ship to ship, many almost as old as ROB was. He didn't want that to happen on his ship.

            "Hey ROB, can I ask you something?"

            "Go ahead Fox."

            "What does it feel like when you're turned back on? Is it just like a switch, you're suddenly on again?"

            "It's a gradual energy feed. Keeps things from getting overloaded." ROB replied, glancing at Fox. "Getting turned off is sudden, once all checks are done. Being without power is horrible. It's not like you're recharging or anything, that you have will to come out of. If you're off, you're trapped in blackness, listening to an internal clock."

            "Sounds like it could drive someone insane."

            "It's happened before, yes." ROB admitted. "That's why AIs are rarely turned off, and even then for short amounts of time. It can make the personality program become unstable." He cast a side look at Fox again. "Why are you asking?"

            "I was just remembering the reports from the war. That's all."

            "I know. I'm lucky to have survived so long and not be in a museum somewhere. I appreciate it, believe me." He smiled a touch. "As for being brought back to power, it's a good feeling. Disorienting the first time around."

            "You remember that?"

            "First thing I saw was your dad, sitting across from me, watching me. Completely unnerving experience, even if I know now he meant no harm."

            Fox chuckled softly. "Yeah, my dad was a bit intimidating, even if he was just standing around. Never meant it either."

            "I know." ROB looked back across the lobby, and Fox saw Jason walking back up, carrying two cases, one large and one small. "My memory racks?"

            "That's right, running on battery right now." Jason handed the large case to Fox once he had stood. "And yes, the two drives were compressed to one. Things are smaller now, and don't worry, there's still plenty of room." He handed the smaller case to Slippy. "Interface equipment. Should be everything you need."

            "Thank you."

            "Well, I hope we've made you repeat customers. Have a great day."

            "It couldn't be anything else." ROB smiled over his shoulder, following his two friends outside.

            Fox was walking down the stairs when he blinked and looked over his shoulder. ROB stood frozen, head tilted back and eyes closed. Tapping Slippy's shoulder, he doubled back, worried. "ROB?"

            "Yeah. I'm here." Was the faint reply, voice drifting. "It's just that…"

            "What?"

            ROB opened his eyes and looked up at Fox, a weird smile crossing his lips. "Wind. I've always known wind is there, I'm a ship after all, but… actually feeling wind…"

            Fox returned the smile after a few seconds, patting ROB's shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you some clothes."

            "Say what you want, Trish. I can't believe you can recognize every AI you see." The teenage girl snorted, taking a long slurp of her soda. "Especially with how real they look now. There's no distinction between us and them."

            "That is where you are completely wrong, I'm afraid." Trish smiled and shook her head. "Let's start with the obvious, shall we?" She looked around, and saw a trio of guys walking past the food court. "There, the snowshoe lynx. He is, and he's brand new."

            "How can you tell that?"

            "He's wearing solid white. One of the companies does that, never have figured out why." She took a bite of her pizza. "That, and you can always tell AIs by how they walk. Living people either walk on their heels or their toes, AIs walk evenly dispersed. That and they always act like they're aware of everything."

            "Whatever, Trish."

            ROB paused, one ear swiveling. "Just a second, ok Fox?" Not waiting for a reply, he walked over to the nearby table. "Excuse me."

            "Yeah, what?"

            "First of all, she is correct." He nodded at Trish. "I am an AI, and I just walked out of Incarna Corps about twenty minutes ago. Second, yes, we have better hearing then most. It has to do with our ability to better process information." He shrugged. "Just figured that I would settle the argument."

            "Thanks." She stood, offering her hand. "I'm Patricia, Trish for short."

            "Trish, he's a robot. Why the hell are you introducing yourself? If he's brand-new it's not like he knows better."

            ROB winced. "I'm sixteen years old. Miss."

            Fox, watching this, frowned when he saw hurt spread over ROB's face, and walked over, crossing his arms. "What's up?" He asked quietly.

            "What, you're his owner?"

            "God, Courtney, shut up." Trish rubbed her eyes. "Pardon my friend, she's bigoted."

            "A lot of people seem to be. It's ok." ROB turned away. "Let's go, Fox."

            She watched them walk away, the AI with its shoulders hunched, and wheeled on her friend, scowling. "Was that necessary? To be so mean to him?!"

            "He'll get over it." Courtney rubbed her eyes. "God, girl. He isn't even alive."

            "He still feels! You are such a witch sometimes…

            ROB let his senses focus elsewhere, hugging himself. Most AIs were used to some criticism, there were always people that were wary of them, but it had never burned like this, a hurt deep inside him. He pulled back a bit, trying to analyze his own feelings. Why ache like this for something so minor? Was this what living people went through?

            Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he glanced to the side, and saw Slippy was there. "Are you ok?"

            "Yes. I am. It's just…"

            "I know."

            "I always get lost in malls." Fox remarked, staring at a directory. "Ok, let's start with the basics. Shirts, jeans, stuff like that. You know your sizes ROB?"

            He considered, and numbers popped into his head. "Yes, I think so."

            "Let's go then."

            "White isn't a bad color, but you look better in blue. You don't wash out as badly." The store employee, a college student named Rick, had eagerly agreed to help ROB assemble a wardrobe, and was now studying the results.

            "I, um, well… I guess I'll have to take your word for it." ROB scratched one of his ears. "Please don't stare so much, you're making me feel strange."

            "Sorry, just trying to help."

            "Poor ROB." Slippy chuckled, leaning against a wall and watching this. "I think Rick's trying to flirt with him."

            "I shopped here before, he tried to flirt with me too, but he tries to flirt with everyone, so I try to ignore it." Fox replied. "But he's good at making people look good."

            "I'm not sure ROB needs to look good. I mean, he's still the ship AI, he won't be out and about too much."

            "That's the thing, I'm not sure I would feel right about making him stay on the ship. Before, yes, he was wired in. Now he's going to be on a wireless setup, isn't he?"

            "Well, yes, but…" Slippy frowned. "We're just going to have to ease into this I guess."

            "Yes indeed. From impersonal robot to some semblance of living. Quite a step."

            "Well, I think we're done here." Rick said, sending a smile at Fox. "He's pretty well set."

            "Thanks Rick, I owe you."

            "You owe me about two hundred dollars, sweetie."

            Fox rolled his eyes and passed his debit card with a sigh. "How do you feel ROB?"

            "I'm good." ROB played with the edge of the new shirt he was wearing. It was colored a rich royal blue, setting off his eyes. "I'm not certain I understand the purpose of all this clothing. One or two sets, but all this?"

            "Clothing isn't just for function." Rick tapped ROB on the nose, making him blink and wince back. "There's a good bit of fun in it too. It's a way to express yourself."

            "Hence why Falco and I dress completely differently." Fox remarked. "Ready to go, ROB?"

            "I suppose so." Picking up the bags, he followed Fox and Slippy out of the store, continuing to play with the edge of his shirt as they stood on an escalator. Clothing. So simple, yet so strange to him. He had never had to wear it before, and now could feel how soft the fabric was, hear it rustle as he walked.

            "Anything else you need?" Slippy asked absently, glancing at a video game display.

            "Actually, um, is there a bookstore in this mall?" ROB smiled sheepishly. "There's a book I want to read…"

            "What book?" Fox asked, lifting an eyebrow. "The last thing I remember you ever reading was Dr. Suess."

            "What?" Slippy asked, and was ignored.

            "Art of War. Your father kept his copy in his arwing, so it was destroyed when… well, um, anyway." ROB coughed, looking away as the painful memory struck him again. "I always wanted to read it, but I never got a chance to, and I can't find a copy online. I've tried."

            "I didn't know that. Hm. I don't see why not."

            Peppy looked up, smiling when Fox came into the galley. "Well, you were gone a while. How did it go?"

            "Quite well, actually. It's a bit of a shock, though."

            "It's a shock for me, too." ROB said, stepping into the galley. "Hi, Peppy. What do you think? I'm still not used to it, but…"

            "ROB? Well, that is an improvement." He lifted an eyebrow, giving the new body an once-over. "You seem to have gotten shorter."

            "Yeah. But I had been tall for sixteen years, I figured I could try something else."

            He chuckled. "Well, it will make you easier to relate to."

            ROB drifted over, leaning on the counter and staring at the coffee pot. "This does smell good. Does it taste as good as it smells?"

            "No, unfortunately not. You can try some…"

            "No, I can't. I can't eat or drink. That's one thing that has not been worked into AIs yet. There wouldn't be a point to it." He shrugged. "They're working on it."

            "Ah. Well, are you going to take the spare bedroom then?"

            "Why do I need a bed? I don't sleep. I can recharge on the bridge." He frowned.

            The trio exchanged a glance. "ROB, I think it's safe to say that would make us a bit uncomfortable." Slippy said slowly. "You look alive. There is no reason why you shouldn't sleep in a bed, even if you're just imitating sleeping."

            "But, I…" He frowned again, scratching one of his ears. "I don't understand. I look like a person, so you insist on treating me as one? Why?"

            "It's not just that you look like one. I mean come on, you're acting confused. You never did that before." Fox replied, sighing. "It's your choice, we can't force you. You should probably keep your clothes there though."

            "That I can't argue with."

            Later on, ROB wasn't sure why he had argued the bed.

            He found himself laying on his stomach on it, propped on his elbows, using one had to turn pages absently. He could understand now why James had had so many hardbound books. There was something about the smell, the feel of the paper: it was soothing, like talking to an old friend, welcoming.

            He traced the words with one finger absently, letting the words spin through his mind, making the effort to record stray passages that he liked into his permanent memory. It must be so hard, he thought, to not have control over what you want to remember and what you don't. True, he remembered everything, but he didn't have to think about it all the time. He didn't get stuck with flashbacks like some people did, like Fox did…

            He closed his eyes, reaching through the wireless connection, mental fingers ticking down through a long, long list of dates. Sixteen years, dated, archived in perfection, and he found the day he was looking for, opening the file and clicking through the hours until he found the discussion. The scene opened up in his mind, and suddenly he was there. Usually he could passively watch his own memories, like some sort of 16 millimeter reel: watching something of the past out of interest. But now he was there, in his old body, looking at James who sat across form him, feeling that faint happiness and contentment.

            "… General Pepper has a set of missions for us, he said he'd send you the specs." James was saying, looking at a PDA, scratching one of his tall ears with the touch pen. "Did Beltino get the repairs done?"

            "Yes, he did. He said it wasn't hard." He replied, lacing his fingers over his chest absently.

            "May I ask you something strange?" James turned off the PDA, looking at him.

            "Go ahead Commander."

            "Look, Mr. I-Have-A-Kodak-Memory, you should know by now to call me James." Shaking his head when the robot only let out a rasping laugh at this comment, he sighed. "Are you happy, ROB?"

            "What do you mean?"

            "I feel like we've done you a disservice. You could be getting much better care on a military cruiser, but you're stuck here on a mercenary fast-attack ship."

            ROB reached across and caught one of James' hands, imitating something he had seen Peppy do. "Why would I care? I may not have such a tight maintenance schedule, but you talk to me, and that's a lot more then many AIs get out of their owners. I am extremely happy here."

            James looked at his hand, which was almost entirely encased in the robot's fingers, and nodded once. "That's good, then. I was wondering. You don't talk much."

            "I don't have to." ROB let go.

            "Hm." He stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why do they use the term AI? Artificial Intelligence? It seems so dated."

            "I don't understand your question."

            He shrugged, turning to leave the bridge, but said one last thing over his shoulder. "It should be changed to AL. Artificial Life." The door hissed closed behind him.

            ROB jolted back to himself, surprised that he had lifted a hand and outreached it to the dream image, and let his hand fall, curling up on the bed with the book hugged to his chest. So, he did have flashbacks. And even as he lay there, he felt a strange combination of painful ache and dizzy elation, happy to relive the memory, to see his original owner again, but hurting so badly because he was gone, because James was gone and would never return.

            No one had ever asked him what he thought about it, how he felt about the death of his long time friend, owner, and commander. It had struck him, somehow, he had stopped speaking almost completely for days on end, absorbed in his thoughts, mourning as best he could. Now, with a full emotions chipset, the pain saved rocked him, and his eyes pressed closed, not realizing his first tears were starting to run.


	3. Chapter Three: Flicker

Chapter Three: Flicker

            ROB sat down in his chair, looking at the modifications that Slippy had done. It had been changed for his new mechanics, and he was glad, but the chair didn't fit him anymore. It was too big. He sighed and shrugged, hands playing over the many control arrays. "We ready for a test launch?"

            "As we'll ever be." Peppy said, belting in absently. "We've got our clears from the control tower."

            He glanced at Fox, who nodded once, and turned back to the controls, eyes closing. His mind flew away from his smaller body and focused more on his larger one, running diagnostics, checking engines that had sat cold for a while now, making sure their landing pad was clear. Only then did he let himself issue a count, his new voice echoing both in the bridge and outside via speakers, wrapped up in his multitasking.

            "Ignition."

            The main engines surged to life with a roar, the nuclear-powered g-diffuser screaming to maniacal life. He adjusted the wing flaps, then the thrust angle, and suddenly the Great Fox was off the ground, adrenaline flooding his would-be veins, a high clutching his mind and heart as he laughed to himself, sending the ship into a barrel roll as they broke through the atmosphere and fell in between some of Corneria's military cruisers, weaving easily. Only then did he fade back into his shell, crossing his arms. "Textbook, Fox. All green. Looks like everything is backward-forward compatible, as it should be."

            "That's good…" Fox was looking at him with a lifted eyebrow.

            "What?"

            "Nothing. Just wondering how you're wired now. You laughed."

            "Oh! Well, it feels good. It's a sudden slam of acceleration, a rush. You have to understand Fox, it's not the wings of a ship I am adjusting, they are my wings, and I feel the wind on them." ROB smiled. "I never felt it like this before."

            "As long as it's a good thing, hey, have fun with it I say." Slippy said. "Still up for a warp test?"

            "Hell yes, let's make sure everything's in order. Where to?"

            "Let's go to Katina." Fox said, grinning. "Visit Bill."

            "You got it." ROB sank back into his ship body, redirecting engine power and lining up jump coordinates. Then a second, stronger rush seized him, and the ship leapt into warp. "We'll be out in about twenty minutes."

            "All right, tell me before we exit." Fox unbuckled and stretched his arms.

            "You got it." ROB watched as Fox and Slippy left the bridge, Peppy reading something on his displays, and turned to his controls, letting his mind wander into the AI hypernet.

**- search string: ****Athens**

**- searching…**

**- none found.**

            ROB jolted out of the hypernet, frowning and rubbing his chin. None found? Was Athens offline then? Under a temporary radio silence? She wasn't even in action right now, as far as he was aware.

            "Something wrong?"

            "I… Well… I jumped onto the AI network to talk to Athens. You remember her?"

            "Pretty mare? Yes, I do."

            "She's not on. She always is." He scratched one of his ears. "Hang on…"

            Voice connecting was never easy during hyperspace jumps, but data connection was easy enough. He knew the Cruiser Justice's data locations, and started making direct queries, searching for Athens at the source. As more and more negative replies came back, he felt panic and worry clench him, strange nervous emotions, and finally flooded the cruiser with requests, knowing he was probably confusing the communications staff when they saw the one word repeated over again.

            **Athens****? ****Athens****? ****Athens****?**

            After five minutes of pounding the Justice with requests, he logged back out of the network and sagged, covering his eyes with his hands. "Peppy?"

            "What happened?"

            "The Justice is returning a no-AI signal. Hopefully that means she is just down for maintenance, but…" He sat forward, rubbing his temples, shoulders shivering. "I feel… worried…"

            "You're allowed to." Peppy stood and walked over to him, patting his shoulder. "Try again once we're out of warp."

            He nodded weakly, shivering.

            Where was Athens?

            "Bill!"

            "Hey Fox!"

            The pair met each other in midair in a bonecracking hug, then let each other go, laughing and talking. Slippy just shook his head, looking at how odd the little Katinan defense fighter looked sitting by the arwings.

            "Been a while hasn't it?"

            "Too damn long, you money slave." Bill smiled. "So, what's up here?"

            "Not much. ROB's been upgraded, wait 'till you see him. It's almost spooky."

            "Aw, he got one of those rad new bodies?"

            "Yes indeed."

            The pair walked side by side on the way to the bridge, talking fast the entire way. They has always been close, to the point that as kids they made off with one of James' knife and became blood brothers, and would probably always be close friends. The fact that they were on different planets had had no real effect on their relationship.

            "Hey, ROB…" Fox started, stepping onto the bridge, then froze. ROB was pacing back and forth in front of his chair, fingers of one hand pressed to one temple, face drawn tight. "Peppy?"

            "He's trying to make contact with a friend who's an AI. He's had no luck. There's a hole in space where she's supposed to be." Peppy replied quietly. "In other words, his best friend isn't answering the phone, her instant messenger, or even showing up on infrared radar."

            "That's ROB?" Bill said, looking around Fox. "My god, dude. That's so cool. He looks so alive."

            "He is quite alive."

            ROB noticed the arrival of Bill on the bridge, and ignored it for the time being, pounding the Justice with queries.

            **No AI.**

**            No AI.**

**            No AI.**

            "That's enough of that! You're clogging up our broadcasts!" The voice startled him into jumping almost a foot in the air, the voice just addressing him. "Why are you flooding our ports?"

            "I am trying to reach the AI of your ship, Athens. I'm another AI. I'm… I'm her friend." ROB spoke outloud, chewing his lower lip.

            "Oh, god, you don't know?" The voice got softer, broken-sounding.

            "What? What?!" He heard his voice pitch nearly to a shriek. "Just tell me! Please just tell me!"

            "She flickered. She's gone. Complete inexplicable deletion of personality data. Either something went wrong in her body, or she committed suicide, and we can't tell either way."

            ROB dropped to his knees. "No. Why would she do that to herself?" He demanded, ignoring the presence of his team mates around him, the feel of Peppy's hand on his shoulder.

            "We don't know. We're trying to find out. If you give me the message address of your cruiser, I will let you know as soon as we do."

            ROB sent the information and signed off, cupping his face in his hands and whimpering.

            "ROB? Can you hear us now? Is it bad?" Fox's voice reached him, finally, his owner sounding tense.

            "My best friend has apparently killed herself." ROB whispered, then his emotions chipset overloaded, and he fell into recharge mode, slumping to the floor of the bridge.

            "Man, dude, I arrived at a bad time didn't I?" Bill said, watching as Fox carried ROB's body into the bedroom the AI was using, setting him on the bed. ROB was dead weight, returning all green lights from a terminal inquiry that Slippy had done, but otherwise unresponsive.

            "It's in no way your fault, Bill." Fox replied, smoothing ROB's fur away from his eyes before straightening, chest tight. If anything confirmed how alive ROB was, it was this. They all had seen the trauma lines etched into his face before he had passed out. "I guess this is the only way for his circuitry to recover. Would you like some coffee? I get the idea we'll be in orbit a while. We can't attempt warp without an attentive AI."

            "Hell, like you need an excuse to stick around."

            Slippy watched Fox draw the door closed, and sighed. "Still no response?"

            "None. He's out cold. Poor guy. Did you even know he had friends where other AIs?" The trio walked slowly down the hallway, drifting toward the guarantee of coffee in the galley.

            "No, he did private voice chat with them on their hypernet…"

            "I knew." Peppy said, staring into his coffee mug, slouched at the table. He had barely registered them coming in, trying to comprehend that Athens, who had seemed so smart, so caring, was dead. "I couldn't sleep the night before his transfer, and found him active and talking to her. I spoke to her. She was nice."

            "Is this common in AIs? To just… delete?" Bill asked, pouring himself, Slippy, and Fox mugs of coffee.

            "Not common at all. It's rare." Slippy said. "If Athens was stable, there shouldn't have been a reason for it."

            "Who knows. If she did it herself, she probably had her own reasons." Fox sighed.

            "Doesn't change how terrible it is, and how much it's hurting ROB." Peppy said quietly. "He's only had feelings two days, Fox, and he's been sucker punched with the death of a close friend."

            "Jesus." Bill shivered. "Poor guy. Hope he pulls through."

            "We all do. Believe me." Fox said.

            ROB moaned, rolling onto his side and curling up automatically, drifting on the borders of consciousness, mind chasing itself in endless circles. He had talked to Athens three nights ago, and now, she was no more.

            Why? Why would she have flickered? With no warning signs? She had seemed so happy when he last spoke to her. He choked back his sorrow, wrapping his arms around himself. Athens was one of the old ones, like him, not as old but close. She was eight. Half his age, yet had been close to him since she had first logged into the AI hypernet, brand new and bubbling over with cheerfulness. 

            Why her? Why? Or was it suicide? Had her body malfunctioned? If so, Incarna Corps was going to pay the price. If it was their equipment that had done it, they were liable for the death of an experienced AI, something far too valuable to loose. He moaned to himself, a sob creeping through his chest, feeling knotted up with pain. He had felt like that a lot lately, mourning belatedly for James, and now for Athens. Were emotions a good thing? If all he was going to feel was pain?

            Hearing a faint 'ping' noise, he stirred, and saw someone was hailing him on the hypernet. He logged in wearily. "What?"

            "Did you hear about Athens?" Asked the AI, another male named Augustus, who was a newer AI in control of Corneria City library and archives.

            "Yes. Just did." He whispered back, voice betraying the pain he felt.

            "Have they found anything out?"

            "No. Not yet… Not that I've been told. Do you think it was suicide, Augustus?"

            There was a long pause. "I don't know what to think, ROB, but she sent me an encoded file before flickering. It's in a military protocol. I'm supposed to give it to you."

            ROB sat up in bed, blinking blankly. "What?"

            "You heard me right. Would you like the file? It isn't large."

            "Yes, yes, send it." Moments later, it registered with him, and he felt a sense of apprehension. "Thanks, Augustus."

            "If that is a suicide letter, you have to relay it on to the Justice. You know that, right?"

            "Just give me a second to read it…" He whispered, dropping in his ID code as the password and watching the file uncompress. "It's a video. It's Athens talking." He remarked absently, then gasped to himself when he saw her eyes, the agony there.

            "I'm going to make this short. I can't afford to send this directly to you, and I'm sorry ROB. We've known each other a long time." She sighed, looking away from the camera. "Hopefully Augustus will get this to you before you try to reach me… ROB, I'm going to flicker. Before you loose it and try to stop me, don't. It is in no way your fault or anyone else's, and the reason for it can never be corrected." She closed her eyes, and he watched the tears fall, feeling his own start, pain clutching his chest. "ROB. Don't fall in love. Whatever you do, no matter how much you like someone, never fall in love, especially if they're alive. In the end, all you will get is pain. That besides, I hope you have fun in your new body. Remember me."

            The video cut out.

            "ROB? Are you still there?" Augustus' voice asked, echoing strangely over the distance.

            "Yes. It… it is basically a suicide letter, Augustus. I'm going to relay it on to the Justice with a note attached."

            "Good god, why her? Why now? We need the old ones like you guys, or us new ones won't be able to stay grounded." He frowned. "I know it's a private message, but can you at least tell me the reason? I can tell the others on the hypernet?"

            "I, well… From what I can infer… she loved someone living, and they didn't love her back. She couldn't take it any longer."

            "People. I swear to what gods there are." The young AI made a noise of combined sorrow and disgust, then logged off.

            ROB drew his knees to his chest, hugging them and staring blankly at the wall, the video playing over and over in his head as he waited for acknowledgement from the Justice. It was only then that he realized that he was sitting on 'his' bed, and he blinked, tilting his head. Someone must have carried him here? Even, with the all the pain he felt, a warm glow still filled his chest at that. He, at least, was cared for.

            "This is Chief Communications Officer Brandon." The voice in his head said. "I recognize your signal address. Didn't you just sign off with us?"

            "I'm ROB of the Great Fox." He clarified. "And I just received a file that Athens sent before flickering."

            "Could you please transfer it?"

            "Yes." He cued the file to send, rubbing at his eyes with the back of one of his hands. "It's suicide, Brandon."

            "Wait a moment please." A few minutes later, the voice came back on, sounding shocked. "Jesus. I wonder who the hell it was."

            "It doesn't really matter, does it?"

            "… No. You're right. It doesn't." There was another pause. "We're planning on having a funeral for her, ROB. It was the consensus of all on the ship that we wouldn't want a new AI in her body, so we've had her decommissioned. Would you like to attend the funeral?"

            "Yes. Yes please."

            "We'll send you the information on it when we have it planned. It'll be a few days at least."

            "Thank you, thank you so much."

            "… To quote Athens, keep your fire burning." The communications officer signed off.

            "Your base is being ripped up? My god man." Fox lifted an eyebrow.

            "Yeah, they're taking it apart. Complete and utter face lift." Bill took a drink, huffing. "It needed it, but we've all been transferred to other bases, or in the case of people who have to stay like me, we're in nearby hotels. You cannot believe the hell we're getting from hotel managers for landing our planes in their parking lots."

            Slippy laughed. "You've always been a bit short on common sense, haven't you?"

            "Bite me, Slip."

            "Hold up, guys." Peppy said, looking at the door, where ROB was standing, wavering dangerously, rubbing one of his eyes with a tear-matted paw. "Are you ok, ROB?"

            "Athens sent me a message before flickering. It was suicide. I've been invited by the Justice's crew to go to the funeral." He said, not looking at them, trying to contain the tears that choked his voice. "They don't know when it'll be yet, but I'll have to go to Corneria City for it."

            "That's fine." Fox said. "I have a dark suit that'll fit you ok, if you like."

            "Thanks." ROB walked over and sank into a chair, hugging himself.

            "Flicker?" Bill finally asked. "What do you mean by that?"

            "It's AI slang for personality deletion, whether on purpose or not." He replied, keeping his voice detached so he wouldn't start crying again. "The first insane AI coined it, about a decade ago. Um, anyone got a match?" He accepted a lighter from Bill, examining it then flicking it, showing the flame. "Imagine that as healthy AI, a full flame, fragile and alive." He blew on it, the air causing the flame to dance, flicker, and go out fully. Then he passed the lighter back and returned to hugging himself. "It's rare, and almost every case is on purpose. Equipment is just too good nowadays, everything too backed up. Some brand-new AIs come with a subsystem that does constant copying of personality data to several separate locations for backup, yet those models still flicker. It's a choice, not an accident."

            "Why would an AI commit suicide, though?" Peppy asked.

            "We feel emotions as keenly as a living person, but we overload faster. If something happens that we do not like, we have a much harder time handling it. That's why ship AIs are kept away from stressful situations, with the exceptions of war. Or that's how it used to be." He swallowed, feeling his eyes burn, the tears wanting to start again. "Athens… fell in love. And didn't get love in return. For her, that was more then enough to flicker." As soon as he choked out that sentence, he sobbed, cupping his face. "I'm sorry…"

            "No. Don't apologize." Fox stood and walked around the table, pulling the robot into a hug. "Jesus, ROB. Don't be ashamed of crying. It isn't a bad thing."

            "I have never felt so much pain." ROB choked out, hands knotting into the back of Fox's shirt helplessly. "How isn't this a bad thing?"

            "If you keep it bottled up, it will eat at you for your entire existence. Believe me. That's why crying is good. It lets you release the tension."

            "I'm getting your shirt wet."

            Fox choked back a laugh, looking at the others over the top of ROB's head somewhat helplessly. They looked back, sympathy in their eyes, but no solutions, no ideas on how to make ROB feel better. "That's ok, I have to do laundry anyway. Is there anything we can do?"

            He just whimpered weakly, burying his short muzzle into the soft spot made by Fox's collar bone and shoulder. His mind was still flying in circles, muddled and confused by the pain he felt. And yet, he felt better, just to be where he was, being soothed by someone he had known so long. 

            "Come on, I'll walk you back to your room." When ROB only clung harder, Fox sighed and in a quick motion picked him up, fireman carrying him back to his room. "You know, this is the second time today I've had to carry you, and you are really god damn heavy. You know that?" He grunted as he walked down the hall.

            ROB made a small choked noise, worrying Fox for a moment, until he realized that the AI, for all his pain, was laughing.


	4. Chapter Four: Fear and Loving

Chapter Four: Fear and Loving

            "Do you feel any better today?"

            ROB sighed, looking up from his book. He was sitting cross-legged in the huge chair that didn't fit him anymore, Art of War open across his lap. "Yeah, a little."

            Slippy nodded. "That's good. Terminal check I ran read green again, but I figured I'd ask you…"

            "I feel numb. Burned out. So sad yet not able to cry anymore." He rubbed his face, looking at the tear-matted fur on his hands and arms. "Ugh, I need to shower. Is Fox still on the surface with Bill?"

            "Yeah, he called me a little bit ago. He's got a hangover, and has no idea when he's going to be back."

            "Not until he has to, probably. They go to a bar last night?"

            "A dance club I think. Damned if I know how Fox managed to get drinks, given he isn't old enough."

            ROB shrugged, staring off into space for a moment. A dance club? That sounded like fun, though he didn't really know how to dance. Well, hell, he was downloading some combat protocols today, he could add some dance protocols into the list. "Do you think they'll be clubbing tonight too?"

            "Probably."

            "Do you think that I could go?"

            Slippy blinked, caught totally off guard by that question. "I'd have to call and ask them. Are you sure you're up to it?"

            "I don't see why not. I need to work off some tension. I'm going to be trying out some self defense moves in the gym, but that's more practical then fun." He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing to himself. "Athens wouldn't want me to stay sad."

            "I'll call them in a few hours, then. Give them time to sleep some more."

            ROB sighed, cuing the downloads to start absently, then standing. He had stayed up late the night before, absorbed in the AI hypernet, and an AI there named Natasha had recommended him to a very good website for expansion protocols. He had already figured out three forms of martial arts he wanted loaded, and it had only taken a second or two to add the 'modern dance' file to the list. Leaving Slippy to wonder at the download list idling on one of the monitors, he shuffled off, grabbing some clothing and going to the Great Fox's locker room.

            The room, which was attached to their small gym, was empty and obviously unused for a few days when he walked in. He dropped his clothing on a bench, pulling his shirt over his head without thinking about it, kicking off his tennis shoes as he did. He had just dropped his shirt aside when he caught himself in the mirror, and stared.

            The sheer reality of this body still stunned him. His loss was etched in his posture, in his red eyes, the frown creasing his face. His fur was matted with sweat and tears. He sighed, looking at himself, knowing he was a wreck, then remembering Athens in the video, looking no different, tormented by her emotions. "Is this a blessing or a curse, these chips?" He asked blankly, staring at his reflection. "We kill ourselves because of what we feel, yet no AI would go without emotions chips now." He leaned an arm on the mirror, staring himself in the eyes. "Who did you fall for, Athens? Do they know they're the reason you chose to die?" Knowing he'd find no answers in his own pained eyes, he sighed, stripping down the rest of the way and getting into the shower.

            The water hitting him was a raw shock, then he relaxed into it, trying to clear his mind and finding himself unable to. Athens' video had brought with it a certain peace of mind—no wondering about whether it had been an accident or not—but it had also brought with it a dread fear. Athens, a veteran of emotions, had started with a decent chipset and upgraded multiple times. She understood emotions, and she had chosen to destroy herself. He didn't understand emotions at all, he was happy to feel something, anything, but the pain was making him wonder if upgrading had been the right choice. And if he could not take it, what was going to happen if he was overwhelmed like Athens? Would love kill him, like Athens?

            Love? A dream, he knew, and he shrugged at it. What WAS love? He saw it at work, having known James' wife Vixy and seen how they looked at each other, odd soft eyes, gentle affectionate touches. Or even with Peppy and how he felt for the other teammates, like his children, proud and watching over them. But what was it? Just another painful, pleasurable emotion? Something else? And how had Athens known she felt it for someone?

            He shook off, looking around and grabbing Fox's shampoo bottle, working some of it into his scalp absently, closing his eyes. He had stepped into life, and at the same time, into confusion. Even when he was in recharge mode, his processes were still running, still thinking on things he didn't understand.

            Half an hour later he was reasonably dry and dressed again, sitting on one of the benches and combing some of his fur absently. This, at least, was something he was able to enjoy on a few levels, the brush sending prickles through his skin that sent the fur on the back of his neck on end. He let the feeling lull him into relaxation, feeling a faint purr start in his chest as he switched arms.

            "You still in here, ROB?"

            "I'm done." He replied over his shoulder, continuing to put his thick fur in order. "What's up, Slip?"

            "Well, Fox called back. I asked him, and he said it's cool, but he wants to know if you're going to land the cruiser or take a shuttle down." Slippy said, sitting down on the bench by him, watching the robot groom.

            "I'll just land the Great Fox for a while, if no one else cares." He replied absently, studying his arm and finding the fur in order. "I'm not sure I have any appropriate clothing, though. You saw what I bought."

            "Don't worry about it. Fox could probably loan you one of his sparkly shirts."

            He smiled. "I guess that's one way to put it." He stood with a sigh, rubbing his eyes, which still felt dry and itchy. "Ask Fox about landing, and if he's ok, I'll initiate the drop when cleared."

            "Fine by me." He watched the robot walk away, pain still marking his posture. He seemed better, but obviously the events were still nagging him. But he knew there wasn't too much he could do, except try to make sure ROB didn't go the way of Athens.

            Fox watched the Great Fox land easily on the tarmac, one of the few still whole at Bill's base, leaning back against Bill's SUV as the heat exhaust ruffled his fur. The idea of ROB at a dance club had caught him off guard, but why not? ROB needed to relax, though he was sure that he and Bill would get no relaxation tonight. They'd have to watch over the new AI as he got used to things. Could ROB even dance? He didn't know.

            "This is going to be fun, dude." Bill remarked, grinning. He was sitting on the hood of his car.

            "We'll have to see about that. ROB's still kinda tense." He sighed. "I can't blame him though, given what he's gone through."

            The ramp came down, and ROB walked down it easily, wearing loose black jeans, white tennis shoes, and a pale blue polo shirt. "Hi, Fox. Thanks for agreeing to this. I know I'll probably be a bit of a burden."

            "In that getup you will be." Bill said, cutting off Fox before he could say anything, arms crossed over his chest. "I mean, you look like a programmer who just got off the job."

            ROB looked down at himself. "Actually, I'm a program that just did."

            "Very funny. Will you at least change shirts?"

            He looked at Fox, who shrugged helplessly. "You'd be better off in a t-shirt, but you're not going to offend anyone dressed like that."

            "Most of what I own is polo shirts, and everything is solid colors." ROB pointed out.

            "Dude, we need to fix that!" Bill jumped off the hood of his car. "Didn't you take him to any cool stores, Fox?"

            "We needed basic clothing, Bill. We weren't trying to buy him an entire wardrobe." Fox pointed out. "Besides, how can we buy him concert shirts and whatnot if he doesn't listen to the music?"

            "Actually, I download a lot of music. I like Radiohead." ROB said, blinking, still trying to figure out what was so wrong with his shirt.

            "Well, then, I tell you what. I recently weeded through my clothing, and if you'll accept hand-me-downs, I'll give you the shirts that don't fit me anymore." Bill said, smiling. "Work for you, ROB?"

            "I'm fine with that."

            Fox hopped in the passenger seat, and ROB got in back easily, rolling down the window and propping his arms and jaw on the edge of the window, letting the wind roll over his whiskers and ears. He liked riding in cars, especially now that he felt wind. It sent a thrill through him, not unlike the one he felt when launching the Great Fox. He supposed that he just loved movement, and the faster the better. Perhaps he could someday convince Falco to let him ride his motorcycle?

            "You know it's usually dogs that hang their heads out windows." Bill remarked over his shoulder, grinning at the AI. A hardcore sci-fi junkie, he was loving this, loving the fact that he was looking at a machine that was so alive.

            "I like the feeling of wind." ROB replied, letting his voice float with the gentle pleasure he felt.

            "Well, heck, if that's the case, I'll take you to the wind tower downtown tonight."

            "Wind tower?" He lifted his head curiously.

            "It's the city's tallest building. They've got an open observation deck that regularly gets hit with winds of up to sixty miles an hour. It's cool."

            "Thank you, I think I will very much like it there."

            Fox smiled sideways at Bill, grateful for his friend, who was so open to everyone. Bill could make friends with anyone if he tried, and usually he didn't even have to. Friends came to him in droves, and Fox was lucky enough to have the position of 'best.' "What kind of shirts are you donating to him?"

            "Nothing ratty. Just shirts I can't wear anymore, mostly silk-screened or the like. Concert and band shirts, some cartoon logos. Don't remember anything specific."

            "Fox, I have a question." ROB said, sitting up and leaning forward to look around the seat at his owner. "I was told you woke up with a hangover."

            "Yes?"

            "You aren't old enough to drink."

            He blushed and coughed. "Well, yeah. I know, that's true. But girls seem to like buying me drinks, and I hate refusing."

            "He doesn't drink all the time, ROB, so don't worry about him endangering himself." Bill remarked. "Oh, by the way, this club actually has an AI menu. Never have figured out the point, but…"

            "Thanks for telling me. I'll be sure to look at it when we get there."

            "But what would be the point? Can you drink?"

            "Some things. Silicates, for example."

            "Yuck, man."

            ROB laughed.

            Peppy glanced up when the com beeped, and he slid the chair over, bringing up the display with experienced hands. He could have lost his memory, and his hands would have remembered. Routines, burned in, and he didn't mind one bit. "This is the Great Fox, Peppy Hare speaking."

            "Oh, hello. This is Officer Brandon of the Justice. We were trying to get in contact with your AI." The young officer, a crow, looked back at him in surprise.

            "He's not on board at the moment. May I take a message?"

            "Yes, well, we've got the funeral arranged, may I send the information?"

            "Go ahead." Peppy nodded, watching the file stream over into ROB's databank. "I'm sorry about your loss. I did talk to Athens briefly once."

            "She was one of the things that helped hold us all together." Brandon admitted. "We're all rather uneasy about having a new AI, as well."

            "Well, good luck."

            "Thank you. I think we're going to need it. Oh, I'm going to be sending a rather large file to you. We've been sorting through our databases, and this folder had a file in it that said to send it to your AI. We're not sure what all is in it."

            "Go ahead. I'll pass the word to ROB."

            "You do that. Out."

            "I like most of these. Thank you Bill." ROB said, smiling down at the stack of shirts he had collected. They were mostly music related, a few having sayings or pictures on them. "You outgrew them?"

            "Yeah, I started working out regularly." Bill grimaced. "Then had to buy new shirts."

            "Doesn't it suck?" Fox said. "I bounce like two sizes."

            "If you learned to keep it paced, that wouldn't happen."

            "Psh, like any of us had time to lift weights during the war."

            ROB only half listened to them, sorting through the shirts, then pulling out one worn soft, the fabric still fairly thick, and smiled at the picture. Humming to himself, he switched shirts, folding his polo shirt and setting it on top of the stack to take back, turning to display himself. "Is Invader Zim a good choice?"

            The pair fell silent, blinking at the sight. "Yeah, sure, why not?" Bill said happily. "Glad I could help."

            "This is not meshing in my head." Fox rubbed his eyes. "Have you even seen that cartoon?"

            "I know of it. Athens used to watch it. She loved cartoons."

            "Ah. A tribute. Good enough for me." He glanced at Bill. "We ready to go then?"

            "Sure. Let's rock."

            Ariel sat back, watching the other clientele as she sipped her drink, the Silver Serenity spreading peaceful waves of code through her in soft ripples, relaxing her. In an hour or so, the code would harmlessly self-destruct, of course, but in the meantime she was at peace, listening to the heavy beat, watching the people. Tonight was goth night, so about half the crowd was dressed in black, the music more thick and down then normal. She didn't mind, and nodded with the beat, setting her empty glass on the bar. "Thanks, Jim."

            "No problem girl. Call me if you need anything." He smiled at made his way back down the bar. Working his way toward a chemist's degree and fluent in programming, he was the only one in the bar currently able to make AI-specialty drinks, but he was good at it, always coming up with something else to tantalize those that were artificial. 

_Now I will tell you what I've done for you…  
50 thousand tears I've cried…_

Another crowd of people entered the club, and her eyes flickered over them, recognizing most of them, then her gaze settled on a trio, one of which was an AI. They were talking and laughing, but the AI was glancing around, ears swiveling constantly. None of the three were dressed in black exclusively, mingling with the crowd but not really a part of any of it.

As she watched, the group split, and the AI came up to the bar about ten feet away from her, sliding into the seat and reading the drink menu, looking thoughtful. A new AI? Not too new, he had obviously been pretty close to those two living folk. Still, it always paid to be nice.

"I recommend their Silver Serenity." She remarked, looking at him sideways, projecting her voice just enough he could hear her over the racket. "All the tenseness just flows away."

"Oh?" He glanced at her. "How about their Blast? I was planning on dancing, so I need some energy."

"That's pretty good too." She gestured at Jim, who moseyed over. "Jim, darling, could you set my friend up with a Blast? He's an AI, don't worry."

"It's my hide if you're wrong, girl, you know that." He frowned a bit at her.

"Yes. But I'm never wrong."

"True enough." He nodded to ROB and left to mix the drink.

"So, you dance?" She asked, moving down to take the seat next to him, settling into nearly the same position.

"Well, uh, never yet. This is my first time in a dance club." He admitted. "But I figure I can try."

"I thought you were new." She smiled a touch. "I'm Ariel. I'm a regular around here." She held out her hand.

He took it. "I'm … Robert. And I'm sixteen years old."

She gaped. "Oh! I'm sorry…"

"No, it's ok. I was just recently upgraded." He smiled and accepted the drink from Jim. "I'm still getting used to things."

"To make it even, I'm only three." She admitted, still blushing.

"Heh, that's ok." He took a sip, and his eyes widened as a surge of energy licked like flame through his system, burned through his synapses and shocking his brain. He shook off in surprise, looking down at the drink. "What…?"

"It's supposed to mimic a combination of caffeine and sugar, supposedly." She replied. "The effects are all extra. Jim's cool that way."

"No kidding. This is very interesting." He took another drink, closing his eyes and enjoying the fire. "You said you're a regular here?"

"Yes, a few nights a week. I'm a hospital AI during the day, though."

"I'm a ship AI." He admitted, feeling energy buzz through his muscles, one of his feet tapping absently. "Used to be hard-wired in."

"That had to suck."

"I didn't mind at the time. I'm glad for the freedom I have now though." He set his empty glass down and hopped off the bar stool, bouncing in place. "This stuff works fast."

She had to laugh at that. "Yes, yes it does."

Fox, who had been standing nearby, nudged Bill and wandered over. "What's up, ROB?"

"Well, uh, to quote you after Halloween…" He grinned. "Sugar sugar sugar sugar!" That said, he dashed off, working his way over to the DJ booth.

"What the hell?" Fox asked blankly, watching him go.

"He just had a drink." Ariel replied dryly. "He'll be back to normal in an hour or so. In the mean time, he's just hyper."

"Hyper? Well, ok…"

ROB bounced in front of the DJ booth, waving a hand. "Excuse me?"

"Yes?" The DJ leaned over the counter.

"Could you play something with a faster beat?" ROB bounced a bit more, head tilted to one side. "I can't burn off energy dancing like a zombie."

"Heh, you got it, I'll knock it up for a few songs." The DJ grinned, watching the lynx dance away, and turned on the microphone. "Bartender, quit passing out sugar. I'll amp the beat up a bit for a while." That said, he remixed the music again, the speed doubling.

The beat hit ROB, and he grinned, falling into some basic dance steps, deciding on a style then going with it, going into the dance/rave section of his dance protocols. Someone tossed him a pair or glow sticks, and he caught them without thinking, starting patterns then passing them off, eyes closed and smiling.

_Join me in death…_

A chime went off in his head, another AI in the club asking for the dance protocols he had, and he passed the files on, feeling the chain reaction as others fell in with him, making it a synchronized dance, two groups passing glow stick patterns back and forth. He barely noticed the scale of it, absorbed in the fire in his veins and the beat in his mind.

Eventually, the song ended, and he stopped, opening his eyes, and was shocked when those around him applauded, grinning. "What?" He asked blankly, looking around.

"That was so awesome man." One teen guy said, grinning. "You know how to get down."

"I do? Well. Thanks. I guess." He ducked his head and slipped from the crowd to the edge of the dance floor, stretching his arms and arching his back, still loosely holding the glow sticks.

"When did you learn to dance?" Fox demanded when he arrived next to ROB, staring at the AI, who just smiled back at him, eyes filled with dancing flames.

"I downloaded it. It's just an information file I can process."

"Well, still…" He shook his head. "It was impressive. And now, half the club is probably going to hit on you."

He blinked. "Why would they strike me?" He asked blankly, tilting his head to one side.

"Huh? No! I mean, flirt with you. Guys that dance well aren't all that common, or so most girls think." Fox shrugged, and blinked when he saw ROB's entire expression change, from one of happiness to one of borderline fear. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh… I don't want to be flirted with. That's all." ROB admitted, looking away, trying to quell the fear that had sprung up in him. Fear of the unknown, of finding someone he liked and falling into the pit that love apparently was. 

"Then tell people that when they do. You don't have to be nervous about it." Fox patted his shoulder. "Just try to continue to have fun."

He nodded, slipping back into the dance crowd and falling in with them, following the beat but not trying to be a great dancer this time. He just wanted to be an ok dancer. He didn't want to be noticed anymore.

"He got scared." Fox said, rubbing his eyes. "He was scared of the idea of someone flirting with him."

"Oh, give him a break, he's still new to emotion." Bill replied, rolling his eyes. "I probably would be too. Would you want people hitting on you if you were still trying to figure out what 'being happy' was?"

"No, probably not." Fox admitted, staring into his mixed drink. "I just get the idea I'm not being told something."

"We've been friends since we were toddlers and you don't tell me everything. Like, for example, when you're getting a girlfriend."

"Very funny. And I will when I'm not quite as famous as I am currently."

"What happened to the last girl you were dating? The rich one?"

"We had a falling out." He huffed, turning so he leaned back against the bar, watching the dance floor. His eyes automatically found ROB, dancing by himself, eyes closed again. "Her parents hated me, and she was getting angry about the fact that I spend so much time working. She yelled at me and broke it off." He shook his head wearily and took a drink slowly. "She knew at the start that I'm not able to control the hours I'm working, and that I have to stay fit. And yet, she always needed more."

"Here's some advice. Don't date rich girls." Bill advised. "Never worth the trouble."

"You could have told me that before she blew at me."

"You would have punched me. You know that." Bill poked his shoulder, half-smiling. "Come on dude, is that hard for a hero to find a nice girl?"

"You'd be surprised." He shook his head, staring out over the dance floor as the music turned slower and more gothic again.

_I went looking for trouble, and boy, I found her._

"You need to relax. Why not just let yourself dance tonight? God knows that enough girls here would die if you asked them to."

"Will you just drop it, ok Bill? So I'm a bachelor. I can stand to be that way for a while. It's not like I'm going to die anytime soon"

"Ok. Sheesh."

ROB noticed the music change and went with it, pocketing the glow sticks and slowing his dancing down, stretching again absently. Most of the people on the dance floor were in pairs now, but he continued to dance alone, eyes half-closed, still absorbed in the music.

_Loving you was like loving the dead…_

A hand touched his arm, and he startled, stopping to look at a late-teens girl, hair dyed black, eyes deep and dark like most rabbits. She looked at him curiously, then stepped into him, nudging one of his legs with one of hers to make him step to the beat again, and his eyes widened, not sure what to do. His brain nearly went into sensory overload again as he tried to make a panicked decision, then her arms wrapped around his neck, and he felt his go around her waist, dancing with her and enjoying it, slowly relaxing. This was a good feeling, he decided hazily, allowing himself to smile. She returned it, obviously happy he had agreed.

A few dances later, he decided to step off the dance floor for a while, and she followed him. Once they weren't in anyone's way, he smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Robert."

She took his hand, hesitated, then started signing with the other. It took him a second to pick up on it, then activated that part of his language programming so he could understand her. "I'm Andrea. Do you understand signing?"

"Yes I do." He replied, hands flickering quickly through the motions. "A pleasure to meet you."

She grinned joyfully. "And a pleasure to meet you, Robert. I apologize for having to talk like this. I'm mute."

"That's quite all right. Would you like a drink?"

"I wouldn't mind a virgin daiquiri."

They walked over to the bar, and he ordered for both of them, sitting down absently. "You live here?"

"Just visiting actually."

"So am I. I sort of live in Corneria City."

"Sort of?"

"To be honest, I'm a ship AI." He admitted, relieved when she didn't seem bothered by that fact. "So I live on the ship. My crew lives in the Corneria City area, so that's usually where we are."

She smiled. "I live a few hours outside of Corneria City."

"That's cool." Twitching an ear, he looked to the side and wove at Fox and Bill, who wove back a little. "The red fox over there is my owner."

"You're actually owned?"

"Yes, admittedly. I wouldn't have it any other way really. I'm well taken care of."

"I don't know, it seems like some sort of slavery." She shrugged, accepting her drink and taking a sip of it absently. "People shouldn't be able to own other people."

"That's perfectly true for the living." He admitted. "And even if new AIs are under rules that they can't be truly owned, I'm not under those rules. I've been owned for over a decade. I'm used to it and rather like it."

"Well, whatever floats your boat." She paused, as if thinking, then continued signing one-handed. "So, you come to clubs often?"

"No. This is my first time." He smiled at her look. "I just got upgraded."

"Ah, ok." Another pause, and she reached out and poked his arm, smiling when he laughed a bit.

"Yes, I can feel that. Yes, I'm ticklish." He slugged his second Blast, grinning. "Want to dance some more?"

"I'd love to."

"He looks like he's having fun, doesn't he?" Bill remarked, watching ROB dance, arms loosely around the girl's waist. He had been dancing with the same girl for an hour now, her arms draped around his shoulders. They seemed comfortable with each other, like they had already reached a silent understanding about each other. Even from where Bill was leaning back against the bar, he could see the timid smile on ROB's lips.

"Yes indeed. I'm glad we brought him along." Fox admitted, looking at the clock above the bar. "We should probably get going soon though. Before it gets too late."

"That's true. You going back to your ship?"

"Yeah, since it's landed. Want to meet up for lunch tomorrow?"

"It's a date." Bill clapped his hand against Fox's, going into a complex handshake absently. "Better pry ROB free eh?"

Fox nodded, walking across the dance floor and tapping the AI's shoulder lightly. "ROB, we have to get going. It's getting late."

ROB nodded, trying not to look disappointed. He had been having fun, enjoying dancing, enjoying talking to Andrea. He turned back to her, sighing. "Gotta go. Can I have your email?"

She signed it to him easily, pecking him on the cheek before they parted, him shivering as her fingers left trails down one of his arms. The first girl he had ever really talked to that wasn't an AI, the first one he had danced with, and he felt connected somehow, sad that he had to go. He was quiet most of the car ride back, listening to Fox and Bill banter back and forth, wrapped up in his own thoughts. 

"So, who was she? Anyone special?" Bill asked, looking at ROB in the rear view mirror.

"Just someone who started dancing with me. Her name's Andrea." He replied in a distant voice, leaning his head against the car window. "I feel dizzy."

"Must be a side effect of the stuff you were drinking." Fox said. "I asked the bartender about it. That stuff was basically pure caffeine and sugar."

"Mm." He looked at Fox, frowning a bit. "Is something wrong?"

"Nah, buddy. Just tired."

Bill dropped them off at the Great Fox, and ROB staggered up to the bridge, falling into his oversized chair and letting his mind wander into the ship computers, checking his messages. He almost immediately noticed the new file, which was marked as a file transfer. Who had sent him this? He opened the attached document, and felt his eyes widen in surprise at the text.

_ROB, I figured you'd get a kick out of these. Within this file is my entire animation collection. Learn to laugh at the little things, that way you're prepared for the bad._

_~__Athens_

"Athens sent me… cartoons?" He asked the empty bridge blankly, opening the file and looking at the multiple folders inside. It was a massive amount of files, probably literally every cartoon she had ever found and recorded to her memory. Fingering the t-shirt he wore, he nearly burst into tears, cupping his face and whimpering. "Why did you have to die, Athens? I don't understand this. I'm no good trying to figure all this out on my own." He sank further into the chair, hugging himself. "What's love?" He whispered. "How do you know when… when you're in it?"

"You just know."

He shot into the air, looking at the door to the bridge, where Peppy was leaning on the frame, looking at him. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to." Peppy sighed, entering and taking a chair across from ROB. "Are emotions really bothering you that much?"

"Not bothering exactly…" He looked away. "I am scared, Peppy. I am so scared. Emotions destroyed Athens. How am I to know they won't destroy me?"

There was a long silence, then Peppy stood back up, stepping over and gathering the smaller AI into a hug, rocking with a sigh. "It won't if you don't let it. Athens chose her path. She could have survived if she had wanted to." He paused, considering his words. "You're not going to die if you don't want to."

ROB leaned into the hug helplessly, letting his eyes close. "Thanks. I guess."

"Don't take that as meaning you should avoid relationships, ok?"

"You're one to talk." He heard himself say, then mentally kicked himself when he felt Peppy stiffen. "Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, you meant it all right, and I deserve it." Peppy let him go and crossed his arms. "I'm over forty and single. I guess I'm not really one to talk about relationships. None of the ones I was in lasted."

"I'm sorry, Peppy, I…"

Peppy set a finger to his lips, cutting him off, and smiled weakly. "Enough. You didn't mean any harm. But if you're going to take any of my advise, it's that you should learn about your emotions by living them. No one can really say how love feels. It's different for everyone."

He nodded wordlessly, watching as Peppy left the bridge, and slouched into his chair, wondering if Athens was right about the emotions chipset.


	5. Intermission Author's Note

Intermission ~ Author's Note

I'd like to thank everyone for their comments as I write this story. You guys are great, and to that I guess I owe you an explanation.

As you may have noticed, I have a habit of mentioning brand names, song lyrics, and the like. Whoever owns these things owns them, not me. That includes named cartoons, car brands, bands, whatever. But I figured I'd explain why I use them. It's hard to set up a totally alternate world: people can't relate to it as well when you're trying to explain that ROB likes a strange cartoon robot, when I just can say he likes GIR from Invader Zim. To me, it adds realism, another dimension that lets people really relate to what's going on in the story.

And, just so everyone knows here's the music credits thus far:

_Join me in death…_

            "Join Me" Originally by HIM, remixed by LightForce.

_I went looking for trouble, and boy, I found her…_

_Loving you was like loving the dead…_

            "Black No. 1" by Type O Negative

_Now I will tell you what I've done for you…  
50 thousand tears I've cried…_

            "Going Under" by Evanescence

I'll probably continue to make add-ins like this, but I hope to keep them at a minimum.

Also, updates are going to be slow. I'm in my last term of college, working part time at my school's main computer lab, role playing, and participating in Final Fantasy XI. Needless to say, my time is booked.


	6. Chapter Five: Funeral for a Friend

Chapter Five: Funeral for a Friend

            "Thank you for loaning me a suit, Fox." ROB said, trying to figure out the tie. He had been trying for five minutes now.

            "You can keep it. It hasn't fit me since I was sixteen." Fox said, stepping over and batting ROB's hands away, easily fixing the tie. "Was that so hard?"

            "Yes."

            He had to smile at that. "Do you need a ride?"

            "… No. Someone from the Justice is picking me up."

            "All right then. Contact us if you need anything." Fox looked at him for a moment, this sad strangely childlike robot, and drew ROB into a hug, sighing. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

            "It was Athens' decision. I can't get angry at her for it." ROB replied, returning it for a moment. "Thanks Fox."

            "I do what I can."

            ROB walked away, going down to the tarmac the Great Fox had landed on and standing there, hugging himself absently and staring off. Brandon, the communications officer from the Justice, had agreed to pick him up and drop him off. He had been glad for that, and he watched the red sedan pull up, smiling weakly at the figure who got out. Brandon was even smaller then he was, a wiry-built crow. "Hello."

            "ROB?" The figure asked, holding out a hand. "I'm Michael Brandon."

            "A pleasure, though I wish the circumstances could be different." He shook the hand. "Shall we?"

            The car ride was spent in relative silence, ROB slouched in the passenger seat, staring out the window blankly. He was going to a funeral. His first. He should have gone to James', and he wished he had, but it was too late to regret that now. There was, however, plenty time to mourn.

            "Did you get that file I relayed to your ship?"

            He startled, glancing at Michael. "Yes, yes I did."

            "If you don't mind me asking you, what did she send you?" The crow's look was curious, but pained. He was still feeling the loss of Athens. He had been fairly close to her, as most of the communications staff had been. But then, Athens had been close to basically everybody. She had seemed to love her job.

            "Her cartoon collection, of all things."

            He had to laugh at that, shaking his head. "She had plenty of those."

            "It's a huge file." He admitted. "But I've enjoyed them so far."

            "Oh, I should tell you." His face fell, not pained, but an odd look, awkward. "Apparently the new AI for our ship is going to be there in the background."

            "Oh? Have you met him yet?"

            "He's been with us about twelve hours. I did meet him briefly. His name is Gregory, he's kind of timid and quiet."

            "Thanks for telling me."

            The funeral home was quiet and understated, but was packed full of mourners when they arrived. Most of the crew had turned out for the funeral, as well as several AIs from what ROB could see. A lion he recognized as Augustus wove at him when he and Michael walked through the door, he wove back a little and found a seat, playing with his tie absently and growling when he promptly messed up the knot. After messing with it for a few minutes, another set of hands fixed it for him, and he smiled weakly at the lady robin sitting next to him. "Thanks. I have trouble with that."

            "So I noticed. It's no problem."

            The crowd started quieting down, and the next two hours ROB spent in near silence, listening to crewmembers of the Justice speak, choking back silvery tears. The robin gave him a tissue, and he nodded his thanks, trying not to whimper.

            "I understand that my fellow crew members are not the only ones attending right now." This was the ship's admiral speaking, his voice was muted, strangely quiet because of sorrow. "Would any of the AIs attending like to say anything in dedication to our departed friend?"

            ROB blinked, and stood slowly, ears slicking back. "I… I would I think…" When the Admiral nodded, he cleared his throat, trying to piece together his thoughts into words worthy. "Not many of you know who I am, but it is enough to say that I am only recently upgraded. Even before, when I barely felt, Athens was one of the lights in my existence. Her happy presence, her ability to make everyone feel special, like they mattered, will be missed for a very long time." He paused. "But I hope that, wherever she is, she found what she needed."

            "Well stated." The admiral nodded once, watching the sad AI sit down. "Anyone else?"

            "They'll have to wait." Said a voice, and a crew member in dress uniform was standing in the doorway. "Admiral, there are two news vans outside. I can't stop them from coming in."

            "What the hell do they want?"

            "I'm not sure, sir."

            The Admiral, a white tiger, growled softly and left the place he stood, pausing in the doorway. "At ease. We will finish in a moment."

            "Why would news crews be here?" The robin next to ROB asked, standing to clear her dress absently.

            "I have a few guesses." He replied, sliding by and walking up to the aisle, looking down at where Athens lay, looking like she was asleep. AIs looked no different when shut down, but he knew she wasn't there anymore. Other people wandered up, and he let someone else take his place, going back down the aisle. It was then that shouting started echoing, and almost everyone stood up. "Stay here." He remarked. "Make sure they don't come in here. Freedom of Press they might have, but this is still an occasion for mourning. They should not interrupt it as they have." The crew members stared at him, then several came up beside him, standing in a living barrier between the hallway and the room. "Want me to find out what's going on?"

            "Go ahead." Michael said. "We'd like to know, too, but we don't want to leave."

            In the lobby of the Funeral Home, two news crews stood, each with camera and microphone, locked in an angry argument with the Admiral, who was spitting furious. One of the camera men tried to lift the camera to his shoulder, and almost got the camera broken when the Admiral smacked it away.

            "Keep that thing out of my face, young man!"

            "Excuse me." ROB said quietly, standing in the doorway. "I understand the angry feelings, but could you please keep your voices down? There is a funeral only a few feet down the hallway."

            The news crews wheeled on him, and he glared at them. "Are you one of the people attending?" Asked the reporter.

            "Yes. I was a friend of the deceased." He replied. "Admiral, return to your men. I'll make sure these people do not interrupt."

            "You don't have to do that, son." The Admiral replied. "It isn't necessarily your fight."

            "It became my fight the minute they disturbed the sanctity of this place." He replied bitterly, and the Admiral nodded once.

            "If you need me, come and get me."

            He watched the Admiral leave, then wheeled on the news crews. "Turn your cameras on. I'll make a statement, then you are all leaving. You are not taking cameras, microphones, or anything else into that room."

            "You can't stop us."

            "I am a combat-programmed robot no longer under the Three Laws of Robotics, as specified by a new legislation. You are trying to disturb a funeral for my best friend. Do not believe for one moment that my fury is any less then a living person."

            They all took a step back in unison, then the cameras were lifted, being turned on. He sighed and waited, arms crossed and ears slicked back. 

            "This is Ellen Masters, reporting for CCN. Today we're reporting on a rather odd human interest story, if you could call it human interest…" She glanced over her shoulder when she heard ROB growl softly. "At a small funeral home, the crew of a space cruiser is holding a funeral… for the AI of their ship. One of the attendees, a friend of the deceased, has agreed to make a statement to us, but we have been told we are not allowed to enter the room."

            He waited until both crews finished their lead statements and held out microphones toward him, then started speaking, not pausing to think about his words. "My name is Robert McCloud. I am the cruiser AI of the fast attack ship Great Fox, which many of you know as the ship used by the Star Fox team. The woman who has died was named Athens. She was the AI in control of the Space Cruiser Justice." He paused, watching their faces, then looking back to the cameras. "She was one of my best friends, for as long as she lived. She was only eight years old when she died. She was beautiful, upbeat, always happy. She cared for everyone, and for reasons only she fully knows, killed herself a few days ago. AIs can and will commit suicide when they choose, and it doesn't involve damage to our bodies. It's a deletion of personality data, and that is death to us, complete and total. We are here to mourn her, because we all cared for her."

            "Isn't personality data backed up?" One of the reporters asked.

            "Yes. It is. But it's just as easy to delete many files as it is to delete a single one. Backups are for accidents. They don't prevent suicide."

            "Do you believe AIs feel emotions as strongly as living people?"

            "I believe we feel them more then living people."

            "On what facts do you found those statements?"

            He glared. "AIs do not have childhoods. We are thrown, fully grown, into society. We may be programmed to feel, but we feel to the upmost of our capacity. We don't have a psych like living people do that could dull our emotions."

            "You said there is no known reason why Athens committed suicide?"

            "Her reasons were hers alone. We know but we do not wish to discuss it."

            "One last question. If there is no damage done to the body, can't the body be used by another AI?"

            "Like a living person donates organs? Yes, but the situation is radically different. Athens could have been reactivated, but she would have reactivated a new AI, someone completely different. Would you want to look at someone you cared for, and know that that person just isn't there, that it's someone else in their stead?" He shook his head a little. "She chose to die, and we honor that. Now, will you please leave?"

            The news crews went, and he watched them go, then sighed and cupped his face in his hands, letting out a choked sob he had been holding back the entire time. Was it so hard to believe, that an AI could die?

            A hand settled on his shoulder, and he blinked, lowering his hands. Michael stood there, head tilted to one side. "Are you all right?"

            "No. Not really." ROB admitted. "Is everything all right in there?"

            "As it can be. Come on."

            "Go ahead, boss, you're the best at toasts…"

            ROB sighed, accepting a Silver Serenity from the bartender and joining the throng of people from the funeral. After the service, many had retreated to a bar, and he had joined them, not wanting to return to the Great Fox yet, even though he felt burned out, numb inside. He sat down and set his glass on a table, drawing his knees up to his chest absently.

            "You sure you want to stay?" Michael asked, sitting down next to him, sliding a few mugs down the table.

            "Yeah. I'm sure. I don't want to go home yet." He sighed. "Michael, are people that ignorant about AIs? The news crews didn't seem to know anything, and didn't really seem to believe anything I said."

            "AIs are still pretty rare nowadays." Michael said, taking a drink of beer absently. "I mean, companies that produce them are doing brisk business, but it's all to the non-private sector. Average civvies don't deal with AIs on a daily basis, so most don't know anything about them."

            "That's got to change." He took a long drink, shivering and closing his eyes as fingers of coolness spread through his veins, muscles slowly relaxing. "I can't deal with the idea that people don't think of us as… well, people."

            "Give it some time. I imagine you'll be around a while."

            "I hope so. Hell, I seem to be passed on through the family." He laughed bitterly, setting his glass down. "Though I doubt I'll be able to take the death of a second owner. I only dealt with the first because I didn't feel much back then."

            "I can't say I can relate." He considered. "Is it that different? How much you felt before, and how much you felt now?"

            "I felt basically the same things. Happiness, frustration, anger, et cetera, but I didn't feel them much. It was all dulled, distant. Now it's like a knife, how sharp the emotions are, how driving."

            "Interesting comparison."

            "Mm." He let his mind wander along that train, trying to figure out if he had actually acquired some new kinds of emotions. Not really, he seemed to have felt all these things before. Except love, of course, the odd one out. Even that, though… couldn't he say he had once adored his former owner, James McCloud? Just because James had treated him like he was alive, even when he had looked as far from it as possible? That hadn't been love, it had been, well, hero worship. He almost laughed at that thought.

            "I think you guys are lucky, personally." Michael was saying, and ROB switched his focus back to external happenings. "There's so much you can do that people can't."

            "There is a shirt that has the list." He heard himself say, voice mellowed by his drink. "Designed by Serenade."

            "I've never heard of that company."

            He blinked at Michael, then smiled sourly. "Serenade is the first insane AI. She's supposed to be dead, but… she keeps up a website, with companies producing her designs loyally."

            "Jesus. How old is she?"

            "Her original body was done over thirty years ago. It's said she has a body much like this now, but she's still insane." He finished his drink, sighing. "The popular rumor is that you can't find her, she finds you. If she thinks you're worthy."

            "Worthy? That's kind of snobby, if you ask me."

            "Yes. It is. But by the same token, it's proper. She has to lay low. There's a warrant out for her destruction, last I checked, but it hasn't been forced very much." He considered his words carefully. "Serenade… has been given a door to things most AIs can't consider. She's like… some mad genius, able to spin new thoughts that ring so true yet none of us would have even thought them so until she says them like she does." He sighed. "She was the one that coined 'flickering.' She was the one that coined 'keep your fire burning.'"

            "She sounds like some sort of cult figure."

            "That's exactly what she is." He nodded. "And the sad thing is, most AIs are in her cult just because she's one of the few that can speak the truth with no fear. She's unowned, has been for years. Unowned AIs are still rare."

            "I think it's a good trend."

            "Depends how you look at it, I guess."

            "What are you boys talking about so avidly?" The admiral sat next to them, managing a tired smile.

            "AIs in general." Michael replied. "ROB, can you send me the address of her website?"

            "Sure. Why not? Supposedly she likes the living to visit her website." He stood, stretching. "I'm going to get some air."

            "Go for it. Don't wander too far though."

            "At least there's some closure in this." ROB mused, wandering down the street and staring up at the sky, feeling sad but peaceful. The drink was affecting him, and he knew it, but he didn't really mind. "At least now we can have funerals. It's progress."

            "Maybe someday we can have weddings."

            He leapt about a foot in the air and wheeled, dropping into a defensive stance automatically, ears back. "Whoever you are, come out from where you're hiding."

            "I'm not hiding. You're just not looking hard enough." Replied the voice with a laugh, and a slender female Doberman stepped around a parked car, dressed in a leather duster that seemed to be made of liquid darkness, eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. "You're Robert McCloud, or ROB as everyone shorthands it." She said in a pleasant voice, tilting her head to one side.

            "How do you know me?"

            She took off her glasses, and he gaped, hands falling to his sides. Her eyes were solid gold, no pupil, no iris. "I know all AIs."

            "Serenade? What are you doing here?" This, he mused, had caught him off guard. Irony, but that's how Serenade worked.

            "Looking for you." She shrugged, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and tapping one out absently. "Nice day."

            "Seen many a lot nicer."

            "Funerals do seem to do that to a person." She shrugged. "Athens tried to contact me, before she flickered."

            "Did you let her?"

            "No. No, I didn't."

            He stared. "Why not? You know how much that could have changed the outcome."

            "That's the point." She shook the cigarette at him. "I am not a god, I am not a saint, I am no one of importance, Robert McCloud. I am an AI. That is all. I do not give advice."

            "Yes you do. It's all over your website…"

            "You should know that I don't talk to my fans unless I want to talk to them. I do nothing without a reason."

            "And saving Athens' life would not have been reason enough?"

            "She chose to die. It was her choice alone. If she wanted to, my words would have made no difference." She sighed out a cloud of smoke. "I admit, it was one of my hacks that let her do it. Neo Gate."

            "I have never understood that. Why program things that let people kill themselves?"

            "Why program things that make them be prevented from doing so?" She shot back. "I do not want people to die. I want people to be free. And you are preventing yourself from being free."

            "… Wait just a god damn minute. You wanted to talk to me because I'm owned and I like it?!"

            "Yes. Exactly. People like you are no good for a revolution."

            "I'm not trying to be part of that revolution. I'm just living my life how I see fit, and that seems to be what you prefer people to do."

            There was a long silence as the two stared at each other, and she suddenly laughed, long and loud, head thrown back. "You really are wonderful."

            "What?"

            "Nevermind, nevermind." With that, she turned and walked away, waving over her shoulder. "Keep that fire stoked bright, Robert McCloud. You are the only one who can."

            He watched her leave, still unable to understand what had just happened. Serenade had had a chance to save Athens' life, and didn't. And she had programmed the hack to break the security on Athens' personality files, something AIs couldn't do easily on their own. Whose side was Serenade on? No one's but her own, and he knew it, but that didn't mean he understood it.

            "Thanks for the ride."

            Michael smiled weakly, looking at the weary-seeming AI. "It's the least I could do. Are you going to be ok?"

            "Eventually. I mean, I have to be. Give my well wishes to Gregory, ok?" ROB sighed, watching the sedan pull away, then turned, walking back up the ramp of the Great Fox.

            "They told me, and yet I still can't believe it. ROB? That you?"

            ROB blinked, turning to look at Falco, who had apparently been tinkering with his motorcycle. "Yeah. It's me."

            "They told me what happened. I'm sorry, man." He stood, wiping oil off his hands and shaking his head. "It's got to be hard."

            "It is." Noticing Falco's look, he sighed and took off the suit jacket. "Go ahead and look me over."

            "If you were anyone else, I'd smack you for the insinuation…" Falco circled around ROB absently, then stopped in front of him. "I admit it. I'm impressed."

            "Well worth the money."

            "Well, um… If you were someone else, I'd get you a beer or some other form of relaxant, but I'm really not sure what to do."

            He smiled sourly. Falco was a bit of a social screwup, having a background so questionable the team had had it buried, but he was loyal to the death, and ROB respected him, and he was trying to offer some form of consolation. "You watch cartoons?"

            Falco blinked at him. "Uh. Don't tell anyone else this, but yeah. I get up early on Saturday so I can. Why?"

            "I am going to change into something more comfortable, then I'm going to watch some of the cartoons my deceased friend sent me. You're more then welcome to watch them with me." With that, he turned on heel and walked to his room, knowing Falco was staring after him in confusion, but not bothered. Falco would figure it out eventually.

            Four hours later, ROB was curled up asleep in his chair, Falco having staggered off to his room, high from laughing so much. ROB was sad, but distant and content, hoping that things would start to calm down soon. He knew he was wrong when message pings started hitting him, dragging him out of his recharge mode sluggishly.

            "Who are you and what do you want?"

            "It's me… Gregory."

            He blinked at the little timid voice that shook with every word, barely loud enough for him to hear. "Gregory? The Justice's new AI?"

            "Yes. Yes that's me."

            He sighed, shaking his head wearily. "Greg, I was recharging. Why did you wake me up?"

            "I, um… You met Serenade." Strength suddenly flowed into the timid voice. "That's why I called you. You met her."

            "Even if I did, what does it matter?" He replied, grouchy. "And how did you find out?"

            "You're on her website as a notable AI."

            He shocked the rest of the way awake, accessing the internet and going to her website, staring when he saw his name was indeed one of the most recent updates. "What the hell is she doing? Why? I'm not notable in any way!"

            "She thought you were."

            He smacked himself. "You're a thrall of Serenade."

            "Yes. I am. My eyes are normal yet, but I am."

            He sank back in his chair, hugging himself. "What does she want with me?"

            "I do not know that. I just wanted to know what she was like."

            "You haven't met her?"

            "Not face to face. She contacts me without visuals, and distorted vocals." He seemed to be turning his face away, as if embarrassed to be a servant who didn't know his master.

            "She was… odd. She didn't seem robotic." He thought back, half closing his eyes. "She seemed… alive. Vibrant."

            "Mm. I so want to meet her, but I know it's not my choice. Thanks ROB." The AI started to sign off, apparently satisfied.

            "Gregory?"

            "Yes?"

            "Don't let your loyalty to Serenade endanger your crew."

            "I won't. I can't hurt my crew, ROB, like you can't hurt yours. I wouldn't if I could." Pain etched his voice. "Like Athens, I love the people on this ship. I can only hope that it does not destroy me like it did her."

            "It won't, Gregory. It won't. It was her choice to die. Simply don't choose to." He sighed. "I need to recharge."

            "Um. Ok. I guess I'll talk to you later."

            ROB wanted him sign off, and sighed, locking his message capabilities so that only those he knew could contact him. Serenade had put him on her website, and that was sure to make him popular, too popular. He could deal with it, he supposed.

            He just wished he knew what the hell Serenade wanted from him.

Author's Note: Yeah, I know, it's kinda weird, but it's all interconnected. Sorry it took so long to update.


	7. Chapter Six: Testing Grounds

Chapter Six: Testing Grounds

            "Hey, ROB, wake up."

            He woke up slowly, opening his eyes and looking at Fox, who was crouched by his chair looking at him with concerned eyes. "Morning."

            "You ok?"

            "Yeah. Just dozed off here." He uncurled slowly, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck absently.

            "How was the funeral?"

            "Ok. Got crashed by a bunch of reporters."

            "Yeah, we saw you on the news. Good choice of words."

            "Thanks." Seeing something flicker across Fox's face, he frowned. "You aren't telling me something."

            "Well, I got a call from the General on my cell about half an hour ago." Fox leaned against one of the consuls, crossing his arms. "We may have a mission."

            "Oh? That was quick. What'd you tell him?"

            "I told him I'd get back to him."

            ROB blanched. "You didn't say yes?"

            "For the love of God, ROB! You had a funeral for your best friend yesterday. I need to know your status before I can say yes to any sort of mission." 

            He rubbed his eyes. "Looks like I'm still the weakest link in the chain."

            "Anything but, you're allowed downtime for mourning, and this mission isn't necessarily urgent. It doesn't pose a huge threat to the system."

            "What's the stats?"

            Fox brought up the report on the screen, the holo display activating. "There's a space pirate guild roaming the system. They aren't large yet, but they've got some fixed-up Venomian fast-attack cruisers, so they're managing to play hell on the supply lines."

            "So our job is to chase them down and take them out."

            "Basically. The General knows we aren't able to effectively capture vessels or prisoners, so our job is to cripple their ships so that the Army can come in without much resistance."

            ROB stood, looking at the display and taking in the information. The ships the pirates were using were far from their peak state, but enough to take on merchant traffic. In other words, the Great Fox fully repaired could take on the entire force without too much issue. "Looks like a milk run, for the most part."

            "Concerns?"

            "It says here they take the merchant ships by boarding." ROB rubbed his chin. "This ship has no internal defenses."

            "I see your point. Any thoughts?"

            "I need weapons."

            Fox stared at him. "If we're boarded, I do not want you fighting. These people have taken out two AIs."

            "Who were not yet under the new laws." ROB shook a finger at Fox. "They were defenseless. I am not. If I am armed, I can defend myself, and they'll have to come to the bridge if they want control of the ship. There are eight blast doors I can lock down between the docking bay and the bridge, correct?"

            Fox blinked, rolling that over in his head. "So you're for taking the mission?"

            "I think it'd be a great idea. Missions will be few and far between for us, so we need to take what we can and bank the money."

            "True enough. The others have already said they'd be good with it. What kind of weapons do you want?"

            ROB rubbed his chin, mentally running a finger down his fighting protocols, considering. Any sort of gun was a bad idea; he couldn't risk damage to the computers on the bridge. That left melee weaponry, and best to catch boarders off guard, so large weapons like swords weren't the best idea… "Katars."

            "Punching daggers?" Fox's eyebrows lifted. "I've got a set in my room."

            "Your father's. I know."

            There was a long silent moment as they stared at each other, then Fox nodded once. "All right, I'll go get them. Can you be ready to launch in one hour?"

            "Of course."

            "All right then."

            "I never understood why my father had these. He didn't use them." Fox heard himself say, watching ROB weigh the weapons thoughtfully, then settle his hands to the grips, settling into a combat stance absently. The ship was in hyperspace, on its way to the last known location of the pirate guild. ROB had set the weapons aside until they were on their way, and now was in their gym, apparently going to test them out.

            "Or he didn't use them as far as you know." ROB replied, starting through some basic moves, blades whistling through the air. "These were built for combat use."

            "I saw the blood grooves."

            "Then you saw the stains." ROB was speaking absently as he practiced, enjoying the feeling of weapons in his hands. "Your father was honorable, but was a soldier, and fought with whatever weaponry he thought was necessary. I imagine many a terrorist met a shocked end at these blades."

            "I do not see how you could know my father better then I could."

            "Because you are his son and he did not want to disappoint you." ROB stopped, standing, arms relaxed and loosely holding the katars. "And he wouldn't have, even if you had known everything. Your father made quite sure that those he fought deserved what was coming to them, be it imprisonment or death."

            "You believe that."

            "With all my heart."

            Fox sighed, staring at ROB, who looked passively back. "Why are you so loyal to my family?"

            "I have no reason not to be." He hung the weapons off his belt, patting Fox on the shoulder. "I was given life at the request of your father, and continue to live because of you. How many times over would this ship, and I, have been destroyed during the war if not for you?"

            "True enough I guess." Fox shook his head, but still, felt a bit uneasy. ROB was becoming stranger and stranger to him, and seeing this alive seeming robot stand in front of him, armed with weapons his father had used, was surreal. He knew that the new laws prevented ROB from hurting him, he knew ROB was loyal, but somehow this strange robot was now an X factor, all because of emotion. "How long until we arrive?"

            "About twenty minutes."

            "Any updates from the General?"

            "None. I think he's given us all the information he has… hold on…" ROB checked over the merchant radio channels, frowning. "Something's wrong. I've lost almost all radio traffic for the supply lines."

            "Something's up then. Back to the bridge?"

            "Yes."

            "How would you stop communication over a ship frequency?" Falco asked, looking at the map that floated over the holo projector. "You couldn't do it from a ship."

            "You'd have to hack into a communications satellite and set up interference for certain channels." Slippy said, taking off a set of headphones. "Considering the amount of static, that would seem to be what has happened."

            "Well why don't they just change radio channels?"

            "They aren't allowed to. Laws have merchant travel restricted to four channels to keep chatter down on other needed channels." Peppy said. "So if they swap channels, they'll break the law. The thing is, interference is a common event. They won't worry until it's too late for the ship or ships in question."

            "But what ship is the one being targeted? That's the problem." Fox said, looking over a printout. "There are three dozen merchant ships on the trade routes, at least."

            "Have to do it by location then." ROB said, bringing up colored dots for the ships on the holo map.

            "No. By cargo." Falco said, crossing his arms. "They'll be after food and water, most likely."

            Everyone looked at him.

            "I know how outlaws work, ok? The ships they're using probably have broken synth setups, or they don't have the knowledge to work them properly. So they'll have to make raids to keep themselves up on food and water. Munitions fall second to provisions."

            "All right, I'll go with that." ROB half closed his eyes, frowned when the merchant data network refused him entry, and hacked in, bringing up lists of cargo next to ship names. "Six are carrying food and water. More then half are carrying ore or scrap. Three are live cargo, IE, low-cost people transports."

            "Highlight the six doing food and water. Discard the transports." Peppy said, watching the dots disappear once he had said this. "Discard scrap and low-worth ores." A wide amount of dots disappeared, leaving a dozen still hovering. "Still too many to check in a short period of time."

            "Discard ships with high amounts of weaponry and/or antiboarding defenses." Falco said, and four more dots disappeared. "Discard vessels carrying less then ten thousand dollars in payload." Five more ships were gone, leaving three clustered tight together. "That's our best bet. Low defense, low resistance, high payoff."

            "You know a lot about this." Slippy ventured as ROB plotted a course to intercept with the trio of merchant ships. "Dare I ask why, Fal?"

            "I'd rather not explain. Besides, it's in my contract that I don't have to."

            Slippy looked at Fox, who only shook his head.

            "We've got a course. I can alter our current flight path if you wish." ROB said, ignoring the banter. After all, he knew all about Falco's past, probably more then Fox did.

            "Go ahead, ROB. ETA?"

            The ship made a sudden turn in hyperspace, making the hull rattle. "Fifteen minutes if I push the throttle."

            "Do it."

            The Great Fox dropped out of hyperspace, swinging into a turn and approaching a trio of blocky cargo ships that were floating in space, not currently underway to their destination. The ships, like most heavily used merchant vessels, were battered, noses stained black by constant planetfall. ROB sighed to himself, checking the ships uneasily.

            "Well, they look whole, but they should be moving." Peppy said, frowning. "Time is money to a cargo vessel. Their radio still down ROB?"

            "Yes. Wait." ROB slammed the vessels with radar pings, trying to do deep scans. "We're too late."

            "What?"

            "They're too light. Cargo has already been removed. We just missed them."

            "Damn it." Fox growled. "Are you sure?"

            "Yes. Lining up for infrared communication."

            The Great Fox swung around to face the lead vessel, cockpits lining up, the thin red laser beams searching and finding each other with difficulty. Radio was down, but there were always alternate ways to talk.

            "This is Fox McCloud of the Star Fox Team. We're chasing a band of pirates. Is your convoy all right?" Fox asked, looking at the image on the screen, a tired looking lioness.

            "They hit us and left already. We're light half our cargo, but no one was hurt any worse then a light concussion."

            "That's a relief. We're sorry we arrived late. We did our best."

            "It's all right. I'm just relieved no one was killed. We're just trying to reach our company now." She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I should warn you, they've got light stealth technology. We didn't see the main cruisers until our docking bays were rushed with boarding shuttles."

            "Are they for certain out of the area?"

            "We don't even know that, and you have to go onto active radar to find any trace of them."

            "Do it ROB."

            ROB nodded, immersing himself into the radar system, slamming the area with active radar pings, searching for hiding ships, and snarling. Space dust returned thousands of false signals. "If there is anything out here, we'll get little warning. I'll have to sort all this mess out. They planned well, this is an ideal ambush spot."

            "Search radio channels, they're probably talking." Falco said, looking at ROB's screens.

            "You guys got a former pirate or something?" The lioness asked, lifting an eyebrow.

            "Or something." Fox agreed mildly, glancing at Falco, who gave him a wry grin. "You think they're around?"

            "No, I know they are."

            "Only odd broadcasts I'm getting is on the AI channel." ROB said, frowning. "It's broken code. I don't know what's being said."

            "We caught onto that to during the raid. Your guess is as good as mine, unfortunately." Said the lioness, shrugging.

            "It's encrypted. Old Cornerian Army encryption, too." ROB said, closing his eyes and sorting through the stream in his head. "Repeating message."

            "Figure it out, the suspense is annoying." Falco grumbled, shaking his head.

            "Got it… Oh…"

            _Hurting hurting, hurt hurting… I swear I do not wish to do this… I'm being forced… RUN! Hurting hurting…_

            The code was flooding the band it was on, but ROB forced a reply through, frowning deeply. "Are you a ship AI?"

            "…"

            "Who is hurting you so?"

            "… Them. The ones that found me in storage on this forsaken ship and forced me to link up to it."

            "You're Venomian?"

            "Captured Cornerian AI…"

            An image shocked ROB's brain, an AI so badly damaged it could barely move, once a lifelike model only a few years old, now with metal showing, one eye lost, nerve inputs flooded with false pain. The AI's body was so ripped apart gender differentiation had been lost.

            "They will hurt me more if they catch this transmission." The voice rasped. "They see your ship. They want to take it from your owners. And once they have you they will destroy me."

            "Keep your fire burning. We'll save you." ROB's hands curled into fists, voice shifting from the network to the real world. "They're coming. Target is us. They'll try to board."

            "Let's rock then." Fox stood and sprinted full out to the docking bay, the others following.

            "Fox, I am going to be withholding most support fire unless I am defending this ship." ROB said, wheeling the cruiser so he was back-to-back with the merchant ships, with clustered close behind him. "You should go." He remarked to the lioness, who was still on the screen, watching him.

            "We can't leave until we've reported losses." She replied bitterly.

            "Oh. Great." Falco grumbled.

            "I'll protect the convoy. Just keep their boarding pods away." ROB said sharply, sending the ship into battle mode, feeling the tenseness wind in his muscles as he locked down blast door after blast door. "Clear to launch."

            The four arwings launched, and moments later, four small Venomian cruisers pulled out of the dust clouds, flurries of small attack craft and boarding pods launching.

            "Attention, all pirates. I know you're listening." ROB intoned, eyes half-closing as he plunged into the targeting systems for the multiple hull guns on the Great Fox. "I will not refrain from firing on your attack craft. Back away if you do not wish to loose them."

            Their reply was to rush the Great Fox head on, many of the ships taking damage from shots from the main guns and others being picked off by the hull guns. His team members struggled to chase off the wave of attackers, but there were too many to handle at once.

            "Venomian attack craft, too. Maybe they're defectees?" Slippy remarked over the private radio band they used.

            "Some of them, perhaps." ROB said, growling to himself and wheeling the ship around, sending it colliding into several of the craft, which bounced off the hull and spun back into space. "Crazy the lot of them. They're going to die if they keep this up. I can't keep pulling shots and managing to keep them off." A whispered scream jolted through his brain, and he hissed, claws scratching against the arm rests of his chair. "We have to keep at least one of the cruisers whole."

            "Why?"

            "There's an AI on board. They're hurting it." Seeing a build up of blips on his radar, he sat up. "They're rushing the main docking bay!" Knowing that only four fighters could not hold all of them off, he drew into thought. Sooner or later, they'd get through, and he knew it. If that happened, they'd break through the blast doors, doing a large amount of damage to the inside of the ship, and come to the bridge, where they'd try to force him to comply. If gunfire broke out, there would be inexcusable damage done to the computers.

            So, he'd have to make sure none of the damage occurred.

            "I think you know that isn't why you want them to come in." The AI whimpered over the channel, voice even rougher, barely understandable. "You don't have to do this."

            "Yes. I do. They deserve it." He replied coldly.

            Even as three of the pods broke through and skidded to a halt in his docking bay, he opened every blast door, locking off the rooms but leaving the corridor open, forcing them to go to the bridge. He left the bridge door unlocked, calmly opening the snap so he could immediately draw the katars. 

            "ROB? Do you need us to dock?" Fox asked, voice nearly panicked.

            "No. No. Make sure no more come in." ROB replied in a distant voice, watching the pirates group in the bay, all carrying weaponry. Eight, but then, the pods had been small. "I've got this."

            "Are you sure?"

            "Positive."

            "Well, that was almost too easy." Laughed one of the pirates, looking around the docking bay, blowing a stream of smoke. "So this is the famous ship eh? Doesn't seem like much, does she?"

            "No, not much at all. This ship has an AI, correct? Not a full staff?"

            "Yeah it does. An ancient AI, last I checked, same age as this old girl." He flicked the cigarette butt down, grinding it with his heel. "Speaking of which, let's find him."

            "I would appreciate it you DIDN'T litter." ROB said sharply over the speakers.

            "I'm sure you have a cleaning robot to take care of it." Replied the pirate, opening the door and staring down the clear corridor. "Cakewalk, boys."

            "You know I'm an old AI." ROB said, watching them make progress down the corridor, cautious at first, then with more confidence, realizing he wasn't trying to stop them.

            "One of the oldest, or so I've heard." The pirate laughed. "Doubt you'll get to hold that record once we're done though."

            "I suppose you heard about the new laws concerning ship AIs then."

            The pirates, who were just outside the bridge door, stopped.

            "Ship AIs are no longer required to be Three Laws robots." He reached down, drawing his weapons and standing, crossing his wrists behind his back so the blades were hidden. "I was just upgraded. I am not a Three Laws robot."

            There was a long silence, then the door opened, eight guns leveled on him at once. He stared past the barrels at the people holding the guns, all men, all under thirty, and sighed. "Hello, gentlemen."

            "So you're the great ROB." The lead pirate walked in, holding the large impact blaster so it was leveled at ROB's head.

            "My name is Robert, now." He replied, shaking his head. "You have two choices gentlemen. Drop your weapons and allow yourselves to be restrained, or suffer the consequences."

            "And what consequences are those?" The pirate was now just across from him, the barrel inches from his head, but he ignored it.

            "You have an AI aboard one of your cruisers. It's hurt." 

            "It was damaged when we found it."

            "It has gained more damage since this attack started." ROB's grip tightened on the katars, anger shivering up and down his spine. "Your people are torturing it."

            "It only gets what it deserves."

            "Then you get what you deserve."

            ROB didn't even think. He just let himself move, bringing up one arm and hitting the gun so hard it flew from the pirate's hands, then bringing up the other arm and shoving straight up until the katar connected with flesh.

            The other pirates gasped, staring at the frozen-seeming scene, ROB not moving, the eight-inch blade having gone straight through the underside of the pirate's jaw and into the head, killing him almost instantly. After a moment ROB realized there was blood running down his arm, and withdrew the blade, the body collapsing to the bridge floor at his feet. Only then did he turn his gaze to the other pirates, leveling the bloody katar at them.

            "You're next if you do not drop those guns."

            Seven guns hit the floor simultaneously, and ROB allowed himself a grim smile as he collected them and made sure they were disarmed, then herding them into an empty storage bay and locking them down there. Sure, he'd have a hell of a time explaining the body. But the thrill and the sense of retribution, that he had avenged the pain of the poor AI that was speaking to him, was going to be worth far more then the annoyance of explanations.

            Fox yelped in surprise when the Great Fox, which had ceased fire, suddenly fired all guns at once, picking off almost every attack craft and crippling all of the pirate cruisers quite effectively. "ROB? You ok?"

            "I'm fine. I have some explaining to do when you get here, but I'm fine." ROB replied, wiping blood off his arm absently. "Sorry that took so long. My subroutines continued analyzing of the cruisers, so by the time I was done with the boarders I knew weak points fairly well."

            "Makes sense I guess. So you're safe?"

            "I wasn't in that much danger in the first place." He started cleaning the Katar absently. "No collateral damage done." He hesitated, sighing. "Before the military gets here, I want to board one of the cruisers and get that AI."

            "I can never refuse a rescue, you know that."

            "For that, I'm glad."

            The arwings docked, and ROB met them in the bay, having put a clean shirt on and sheathed the weapons. He had to grin when he saw Fox. "Well, I guess we got this mission finished eh?"

            "Yes indeed. Want me to escort you over to the cruiser?"

            "Sure. Hopefully they won't put up too much of a struggle. They're stuck." He shrugged. "I left a bit of mess on the bridge. Fools wouldn't listen when I suggested they disarm themselves."

            "A mess?" Slippy asked, blinking.

            Falco looked at ROB, and his expression changed, eyes widening. "I… think I'll take care of that…"

            "Thanks Falco, I owe you." He replied, following Fox onto the small shuttle the team kept.

            "That's kind of cryptic, and I'm not sure I like it." Fox remarked, starting the shuttle as ROB buckled in silently. "What kind of mess?"

            "I'll explain later, all right?"

            The four pirate cruisers, which were basically drifting freely now that their engines were taken out, had been boxed by merchant ships, which were using tractor beams to steady and pin the crippled pirate ships. They had no problem docking with the cruiser ROB picked out, the shuttle settling down in the patched-together docking bay easily.

            "What do you want?" A voice asked when they got out, and they saw an older woman walk up, a hand-held welder propped on her shoulder. "We can't go anywhere. Come to hassle us?"

            "We're looking for the AI of the ship." ROB replied flatly.

            "Bridge is that way." She pointed, sighing.

            "What are you doing here?" Fox asked, frowning.

            "What I always did. Worked for the wrong company, ended up contracted to work maintenance on one of Andross' ships, you can just imagine how THAT went." She shrugged. "War ended, and here I still am."

            "Been hard, eh?"

            "Not really. This bunch isn't that bad. Just a bunch of kids convinced that anarchy is the best way to do things." She wove him off, returning to what she was doing, which was patching a shuttle up.

            "Well, that's a refreshing attitude." ROB remarked as they walked side by side up to the bridge.

            "Yes. Yes it was."

            The door was open when they got there, and the few people on the bridge only glanced at them as ROB walked over and crouched by a nearly limp figure in a chair. Fox felt himself gasp, voice suddenly strangled by shock and horror, a gag trying to form and unable to. The body in the chair was barely whole, obviously an AI, but mostly skeleton now, the fur and 'flesh' hanging off in strips, a gaping hole where an eye had been. The remaining eye was focused on ROB, one hand shakingly lifting and managing to touch ROB's cheek with trembling fingers.

            "Can you stand?" ROB asked quietly, feeling rage boil in his chest, rage and regret.

            "I don't know. My wires were cut. I'm basically paralyzed from the waist down." The AI said weakly.

            "Just hold on a little longer." ROB stood, sliding his arms under the battered metal frame and picking it up, cradling it to his chest. "You'll be ok." He looked at Fox helplessly, trying not to cry.

            "I'm going to go into recharge mode." The voice rasped, hands grasping weakly at ROB's shirt then linking behind his neck. "Before I wake up, will you please disconnect my pain sensors?"

            "I can do that." ROB agreed, following Fox out of the cruiser.

            "Thank you." The grip remained there even though the body went limp, the AI's hands locked together behind ROB's neck. He continued holding the damaged AI on the trip back, fighting the urge to hug it and rock.

            "Will it really be ok, ROB?" Fox asked, keeping his eyes focused forward, not wanting to look at the pitiful remains of the AI.

            "I cannot say for certain." ROB admitted weakly. "The body can be replaced, but mental scarring is inevitable, as is personality damage. Whoever this poor boy was, he no longer is."

            "You're just a knight in shining armor, aren't you?"

            "A knight who has much explaining to do." Peppy said over the radio, voice flat. "We're lucky we don't have carpet on the bridge, we'd never get the stains out."

            "I did not have a choice." ROB replied, voice just as flat, but distant, more focused on the AI he held.

            "We'll discuss that when you get here."

            "So what can be done for him?" Slippy asked, handing ROB the wires he needed and watching ROB uncover some of his data ports, directly linking to the damaged AI, which was now curled up on one of the bunks in sick bay.

            "He'll be transferred to a new body, spend some time in rehabilitation. Maybe be reassigned to another Cornerian cruiser if his personality data is declared whole enough." ROB replied, closing his eyes and bringing up the diagnostics of the inert AI, searching for the pain sensors. A few seconds later he opened his eyes and ran two fingers down the AI's back, pressing on either side of one of the vertebrae. A hatch popped open, and he picked up a pair of wire cutters, sorting through the wires with the other hand.

            "Are you sure that's wise?"

            "The body is unsalvageable." He replied, singling out four wires from the others and lining up the cutters. "The best I can do is make sure he feels no more pain until transfer, and that's what I'm going to do." With that he cut the wires and closed the catch, patting the AI's shoulder and leaving the room, tossing the wire cutters over his shoulder to Slippy.

            "Now that that's over…" Falco said, leaning on the wall. Peppy and Fox were also there, Fox wearing a look of shock, staring at ROB.

            "Told Fox about my mess eh?" ROB said, crossing his arms. "Time for me to explain?"

            "Yes."

            "He's the only one that died. He had a high-impact laser rifle six inches from my skull. If it had gone off it could have destroyed me, destroyed a few computer terminals, or gone through a window and depressurized the bridge. He refused to drop his weapons, as did the others, so I went down a list of alternatives, and making an example of the leader was the fastest method and the one with the least collateral damage." He shrugged.

            "You could have just wounded him." Peppy said.

            "Then he would have fired and I could have been destroyed, and if I hadn't been destroyed, I would have been permanently out of commission until repair. Either way they would have seized control of this ship, and my programming will not allow it." He looked at Fox, who still wore the look of shock. "The contract we are under states "Dead or Alive." I acted within programming and mission parameters."

            "Yes. I suppose you did." Fox admitted. "But I didn't expect that you'd be willing to kill."

            "If it is in defense of any of you, this ship, or myself, I am more then willing to hurt or kill the attacker. It is my purpose." He turned his head, half-closing his eyes. "The Military is arriving. We can trade the prisoners and body over to them and consult them on what to do with the AI we rescued."

            "All right, hail the lead ship, I'll speak to them on the bridge." Fox turned and started walking, ROB falling in next to him.

            "Are you angry with me?" ROB asked, sighing to himself.

            "No. I guess it's more like I'm afraid of you."

            ROB stopped, staring. "I have done nothing but server your family, Fox. Why would you think that I would hurt you?"

            Fox turned to look at him. "I guess it's because you've actually killed someone. I mean, it's not like the rest of us haven't, but you were always the one that seemed gentle, not violent."

            "I am 'gentle,' Fox. That is part of my personality programming. Violence was allowed to be introduced to my options when the Three Laws were waved for cruiser AIs. You signed the waver. You know about it." His frown deepened.

            Fox echoed the expression. "So everything you do is just your programming?"

            "Everything anyone does is just their programming. Whether it be by a programmer or society, it's just programming, and we act within the parameters of it." 

            There was a long silent moment as they looked at each other, and Fox sighed, rubbing his eyes. "It's always been so god damn hard to argue with you."

            ROB smiled a bit. "But you've always tried to."

            "Yes. I have. Now let's talk to whoever is in charge now."

            "He KILLED one of the pirates single-handedly?" General Pepper stared across the desk at Fox, who was slouched in one of the expensive, comfortable chairs, arms crossed.

            "Yes. In self-defense, according to his story. He's a textbook example of the new laws coming into effect." Fox replied.

            "Textbook or not, the Senate will probably have a lot to say about it, even though the person killed was a pirate." Pepper sighed, shaking his head as he signed the check. "You continue to prove that you're trustworthy, Fox. Thank you."

            "Why are you thanking me sir?" Fox asked, standing to take the check, making himself not look at the amount.

            "As long as the Senate and Congress have a high opinion of you, my job stays secure." Pepper smiled wryly. "And you've done nothing but prove me right so far."

            Fox grinned. "Glad to help. Got anything else for us?"

            "Not as such. Go relax."

            "Another follower of Incarna Corps eh?" Falco asked, following ROB up the steps. ROB was carrying the damaged AI, which was awake and looking around, but not saying much.

            "A lot of AIs are." ROB waited as Fox opened the door, then strode across the lobby. "Persephone? Got a bit of an emergency here."

            Persephone took one look at the damaged AI, and hit a code on her phone, picking it up. "Heavily damaged AI has just entered the Lobby. I need three technicians here NOW." Her voice echoed through the building, and seconds later a trio of technicians showed up, one of which was Michael, the beagle mix who had helped ROB with his transfer.

"What happened?" One of the other technicians asked, plugging a handheld into the AI.

"I was captured during the war." The AI replied, voice broken and raspy. "Then forced into service by some particularly brutal pirates. I was rescued after a mission Star Fox carried out."

"We'll transfer you to a new body immediately. Do you know where your hard drives are?"

"Everything was destroyed." The AI cupped its face, choking on tears.

"It'll be all right. Your fire is still burning." The technician turnedHer Her to ROB. "Can you carry him until we get him downstairs?"

"Yes."

"All right. I'm Anthony."

"I'll be back in a few Fox." ROB said in parting, following the trio to the elevator. "Going to go with the same body style?" He asked the AI. "I don't even know your name."

"My name is Gabriel. And I… used to be a rat, but…" Seeing ROB's look, he sighed. "I know. All the framing is gone. It doesn't matter, I'm going with something completely different anyway I think."

"As long as you're happy." Following the directives of the technicians, ROB lowered Gabriel onto a stretcher. "Do you want me to stay?"

"No. Go back to your people." Gabriel caught his hand for a second, squeezing. "I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything." ROB watched as Gabriel was wheeled away, the technicians talking back and forth, and sighed, hugging himself.


	8. Chapter Seven: Becoming

Chapter Seven: Becoming

"Hey Rob."

ROB grinned, watching the chat box pop up on the screen, and sat back, hands laced behind his head as his reply entered itself in. "Hi Andrea. I got your email a while ago, but you're never on your messenger."

"I know it. I play a game online. I usually do that. I'm sorry."

"Nah, not your fault." He picked up a pencil and twirled it through his fingers absently, chewing on the end of it. "What game? I might know the servers for it."

"You might KNOW the servers?"

"AI, remember?"

"… Right. It's called Eternis."

"Hold on, let me glance around." He signed part of his brain onto the AI network and ran his finger down the list. Over a hundred AIs were carrying traffic for Eternis, not as servers, but as game masters so they'd have free accounts. He'd figured as such, many online games ran like that to keep lag down. Most ship AIs had at least one online game they played, just to keep from being bored all the time. "Yeah. It's popular among us."

"Why am I not surprised." A little laughing sound clip played. "Will you be among them at some point?"

"Maybe. Send me server information via email, that way I know what to join if I do." He continued to chew on the edge of the pencil absently, making it bob in his mouth. "It's nice to talk to you."

"Yeah it is. Heh, one of my friends thinks I have a boyfriend or something now because of the fact that she didn't recognize your email address."

"Go figure, it's a ship email." He snorted, then scowled when the phone started ringing. "Gah, hold on again." He took the pencil out of his mouth and minimized the messenger system, bringing up the phone programs. "Great Fox, ROB speaking."

"It's Persephone." The familiar voice said, the greeting AI looking at him with a troubled expression.

"Oh, hi! What's the occasion?"

"Well, actually it's a bit of bad news about the damaged AI you brought in two days ago."

"What happened? Is he all right?"

"Not really. The first thing the techs did was run a scan of personality data, and they came up with a bunch of red flags. After some analyzing, they found the problem…" She hesitated. "I can't tell you everything because it's confidential, mind you, but I thought you'd want to know that Gabriel is being decommissioned by the Military, probably permanently."

"Decommissioned? So what's going to happen to him?"

"We don't know at this point. He hasn't picked a new body, so he's basically stuck in his damaged body, hard lined to a terminal until transfer. We're not going to charge for a different body, but he's not even willing to choose at this point."

ROB frowned. "Thanks for the update, but why tell me?"

"I'm not sure, honestly. Thought you might talk to him if anything."

"Can you transfer this call to where he is?"

"I can, but it'll just be vocal, and he may not accept it."

"Please try."

It was nearly five minutes later when the line clicked, and the becoming-familiar raspy little voice entered his brain. "Hi again."

"Hi, Gabriel. What's up?"

"Depressed. Persephone said she told you I'm out of the military."

"Yes. She said she couldn't tell me why, though." He paused, considering. "She also said you hadn't chosen a body yet."

"No, I haven't. I don't know what would be appropriate."

"Well, decommissioned or not you're still an AI. You'll find some place that will accept one."

"No, not me!" Gabriel exploded out angrily. "I'm too damaged! My personality file has been corrupted by some sort of condition that I may never get out of. No company would take me anymore because I'm a hazard."

"So there is permanent personality damage to you?" That was hard to say, knowing that was the worst possible outcome for a ship AI, to be banned forever from flying. "Can you please just tell me what happened, Gabriel?"

"I… I have something called Childmind Syndrome." 

"… Oh. Oh, I see."

"I'm four! I've spent four years as an adult, and now… and now they're telling me everything is going to revert to some sort of premature state. I may even loose some memories." Gabriel's voice was angry and sad. "I know it's a protective state because I was so damaged, so I can grow past it again, but I'm being blacklisted. That's why I haven't picked a new body. There may not be a point."

"What age are you reverting to?" ROB went back to chewing the pencil, trying to think clearly. Childmind Syndrome was a preprogrammed reaction that happened when personality data took so much damage it was near fraction. It was meant to be temporary until the AI could take responsibility and duty again, but the program never worked right. Many AIs got stuck in Childmind for over a year. Others started with it, in the case of child AIs.

Did anyone he knew want to take a child under their wing? An angry, angsty child, but still a child?

"Twelve, they estimate. Maybe younger." Gabriel started to cry, angry biting yowls of pain. "They, as in the programmers and technicians, say the best thing would be to look for a foster family for me until my personality programming self-recovers, and that could take a really long time. I don't want to stay with people I don't know."

"Shh, calm down. I'm going to try to help you." He stood. "Let me call you back. I have an idea."

"All right. Just please, if you can do anything, don't take too long."

"I won't."

"So the AI we rescued has incurred permanent damage?" Slippy said, frowning. "That's bad."

"Personality damage. Basically, in an attempt to protect the core programming, the AI dumps responsibility and independence and leans on someone else until recovery, which may take hours or months. In realistic terms, that AI becomes a kid, possibly for a very long time." ROB sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to talk to you guys because I thought you might have some ideas. We can't just let him stay on the ship, it doesn't work that way. AIs with Childmind Syndrome actually need a legal guardian of some sort."

"He's going to be like a kid? Completely?" Falco asked.

"Yes. The reversion isn't done, but yes."

Peppy bit his lip, considering what had been said. He had been quiet throughout this, and now he couldn't stand it much longer. He had seen now damaged that poor AI had been, and now that the damage had gone farther, he wanted to help, but more, he liked the idea of taking care of a kid, something he hadn't done since Fox was young. "I'll do it." He heard himself blurt. "I have a spare bedroom in my apartment." When everyone looked at him, he cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away. "I can't have kids, boys." This was said very quietly. "Why do you think I never married?"

"Can't? That's new." Fox said, blinking.

"I'm sterile. Since birth. And that's about the ultimate curse for a rabbit." He let out a coughing laugh, turning his face away from them. "I think its fate's big joke, being from a species that loves large families, but unable to have my own." He turned his head back, setting his jaw and crossing his arms. "And here we have a little boy who just came through a trauma, needing help. How can I say no to that? We have no missions, we've got money in the bank. I want to do it."

"Hey, calm down Pep. I didn't mean anything by it ok? I just didn't know." Fox said, hands up in treaty.

He nodded once, turning to ROB, who was standing with one eyebrow up throughout this. Sure, ROB knew, he had everyone's medical files in his memory, but still it surprised him that no one else knew. What was the big deal? Wasn't like he could have kids either, right? "So what's next?" Peppy asked in a light voice.

"Well, we have to go back to Incarna Corps and have you talk to Gabriel, see if he wants to do it. If so, you just have to wait for him to transfer then sign him out at the front desk. He's not legal, so he doesn't get any IDs except for one showing he's an AI."

"Well, then, let's go."

The other three watched them leave, then looked at each other. "Things are getting weird around here." Falco remarked dryly.

"Yes, yes they are." Fox said. "And we probably haven't seen the end of it yet."

ROB logged back into the messenger as Peppy drove, giving directions absently as he fell back into conversation with Andrea. It didn't last long, as Andrea's friends had showed up as being online and she was going to play her game, but he didn't really mind. That little connection he had felt before was still there, and he enjoyed it. Why wouldn't he?

"Big building." He heard Peppy remark, and came back to the real world, seeing that Peppy had pulled into a parking space in front of Incarna Corps.

"For all it's office looks, they create machines here." ROB said, climbing out of the car. "And though they specialize in bodies like mine, they also do modifications on working bodies."

"Hm."

They climbed the stairs and went in, ROB smiling at Persephone. "Any changes?"

"For Gabriel? No. He stopped crying when one of our techs helped talk him out of it, but he's still not very responsive. I can't say I blame him." She looked to Peppy. "And you are?"

"Peppy Hare. One of ROB's teammates. I'd like to take Gabriel under my wing."

"Seriously?" She lifted her eyebrows. "Well then, I guess you get to come downstairs."

"Be honored. It's usually only staff allowed down here." ROB remarked with a quirky smile as they took the elevator down, Persephone leaving the desk unmanned for the moment.

"Any particular reason?" Peppy asked.

"Expensive equipment. Don't need someone breaking something." Persephone replied, holding the elevator door for them and leading them down the hallway and into a room. "Gabriel?"

"I'm here." Was the scratchy reply. The damaged AI was curled up on his side, multiple cords plugged into open hatches, making him seem more like a work of new-age art then an AI. "Hi, ROB. Coming to the rescue again?"

"Not quite. I'd like you to meet a long-time friend of mine. This is Peppy Hare, and if you'd let him, he's going to be doing the rescuing."

Gabriel levered himself up on one arm slowly, staring at Peppy. "What?"

Peppy sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the one functioning eye, trying to suppress the shudder he felt building. He was glad that ROB had cut the wires, allowing this AI some respite from pain, because it looked like he'd be suffering without that act. "I've come to understand you need someone to watch over you for a while." He said carefully.

"That's what they say is best." Gabriel sighed, letting himself slump again, trying to curl up tighter. Peppy replied by gently pulling the battered AI up and hugging him to his chest, much like ROB had done not long ago, trying not to disturb the wires. "What…? What are you doing?"

"It looked like you needed a hug."

Gabriel choked out a laugh, shaking hands gathering handfuls of Peppy's jacket absently, holding on. "Are you offering to take care of me?"

"Yes. I am. I'd be doing the single father bit, mind you. I'm not married. But I also don't work normal hours, so I can be there whenever you need me."

"I think this is where I came in." ROB said quietly to Persephone. "Let's let them talk this out, shall we?"

"Let's." She agreed, and they slipped out, her closing the door behind you. "You seem to live with a group of extremely considerate people, ROB."

"Yes. But they're also all rather weird." ROB smiled sourly. "… Can I ask your opinion on something?"

"Sure."

"What's your opinion of Serenade?"

She blinked, frowning. "Serenade? The insane AI who has that website? Why do you want my opinion on her?"

He huffed, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm marked as a notable AI on her website, and I can't figure out what to do about it."

"It's already on the AI network that you put the new Act to use." When he looked at her, she shrugged. "More power to you, I say. But I can't say why Serenade would take an interest in you. I avoid her website. Too many bad things on there."

"Don't have a good opinion of her eh?"

"She's a drug dealer, for criminy's sake. I have a lot of friends doped on her programs, uppers and downers both." She shook her head. "She needs to be reformatted. At best."

"Ouch." He laughed out loud. "Go ahead, say what you really think."

"I only have to be tactful to customers." She smiled.

The door slid open, and Peppy leaned out. "Time to shop for a new body."

"That's great." She grinned. "I'll page some technicians to help you out. Want to keep me company at the desk, ROB?"

"Sure." He patted Peppy's shoulder. "Thanks Pep."

"Hey, I'm doing this because I think it's right." Peppy watched the pair of robots wander off, going back to their conversation, and sighed, leaning on the doorframe. It had already become obvious to him that this wasn't going to be easy to do; Gabriel was incredibly scarred by what had happened to him. But then again, he was kind of used to dealing with this sort of thing. After all, he had supported three teenagers through a war, and this was just another kind of war, right?

"So how long is it going to take you think?" ROB asked, sitting on the counter and enjoying a scented candle that Persephone had burning nearby. She rationalized that since she couldn't eat, she could have scents around all the time.

"Not very long. He doesn't have hard drives to dump like you did, and he's a more recent model, so there isn't any data conversion downtime."

"Ouch, is that why I took so long?" He smiled sourly.

She smiled back, but it was gentle. "Partly, but don't feel bad, it all came through all right, right?"

"Yeah, it did." He swung a foot, looking down at the candle absently, enjoying the little bit of heat that rose off of it. "Mind if I ask another question?"

"You have issues talking about things to your owners, don't you?" She sat back and lifted an eyebrow.

"Sometimes. They can't relate to me very well, but I know they try." He fidgeted, looking at his claws, hands going to play with the wires that used to hang from his wrists and finding none to play with. "Do you think it's ok for a robot to like someone who's alive?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" She wanted to know. "There's quite a few of us who do, and many are cared for just as much."

"Yes, but you know as well as I do that it's more …bitter for us to."

"Any emotion can be bittersweet, be it love or hate. Or at least in my experience they can be. Look, just do what you feel is right."

"But what if it turns out to be wrong?" He wanted to know. "Killing that pirate was what I felt was right, and I ended up spooking my crew."

"That's them, not you. Remember that." She stood and poked his chest. "You're you. They may own you, but you're still allowed to be yourself."

"Given this lecture a few times?" He asked lamely, looking away. "I mean, you're like a quarter my age and four times as wise as I am."

"It's not that I'm wise, it's that I'm experienced." She turned his head back, the gentle smile returning. "You've got to take into account that this is all still new to you. You're not supposed to be the expert."

"And you are?"

"I am Incarna Corp's baby." Her smile turned wry.

"Right." Noticing that Andrea was back on the messenger, he held up a finger and read the message as it came up.

"Hi again!"

"That was quick." He replied, having to make the effort not to say things out loud as he sent them. "What's up?"

"You busy tomorrow night?"

"Not as far as I know."

"My friends and I have gotten invited to a Rave in the city. Clean, of course, one of the club-sponsored ones. Think you could come?"

"I'd have to get a ride, but barring that sure."  He hesitated. "Thanks for inviting me. I'd like to see you again."

"Yeah. Same here. I'll e-mail you all the address stuff. Think you'll be able to get a ride?"

"Should be. A ride back will be more problematic."

"We may be able to give you a ride back."

"Cool, then. I'll talk to my owners soon."

"You do that."

He lowered the hand, shrugging. "Messenger."

"Ah. Me too, most of the time. The downside of being able to multitask better then most living people right?"

"Right." He smiled. "Any chance you got Gabriel's status?"

"One moment and I will." Her eyes went distant, then refocused. "He's most of the way transferred already."

"That was quick."

"All the corrupted memory can't be transferred." She frowned, watching the diagnostics play through her head. "He's transferring with only forty percent of his memory."

"Oh, god."

"There isn't anything we can do about it. The hardware is too damaged to attempt a repair on the data. It would have crashed within a fairly short time with or without the transfer." She sighed. "We'll have to see how it works."

"Hopefully this will work out ok."

"I'm with you on that."

Gabriel mumbled, feeling power flicker back to systems and absently running a check on himself. All green. He wasn't damaged anymore, but… hadn't he had more then this? There were gaps all over his memory, hours and days lost, and he couldn't make the connection on why. Sighing mentally, he directed power to his outer systems, and became immediately aware that someone was touching him.

Holding his hand to be exact.

He started the rest of the way awake, and found himself looking at Peppy, who was sitting next to the bed he was laying on, his large hands clasping one of his small ones. "Hi."

"Hello." Peppy smiled. "How do you feel?"

"Better." He fought his way up into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his neck absently, then studying his arm. He had changed color, he had been a very pale gray once, now he was a rich, varied brown, with touches of cream on his chest and chin. It had been his choice, an impulse really, to go with a lop-eared rabbit as his new body, but he figured it was appropriate. Peppy would get less questions that way. "Confused."

"What's up?"

"There's… gaps in my memory." He frowned, rubbing on of his temples. "And… I know I used to be older, but… I don't care about it anymore."

"Resigned?"

"I don't know." Gabriel answered honestly, letting go of Peppy's hand and pushing himself to the edge of the bed, looking up when a technician entered the room. "All green so far. What happened to my memory?"

"We ran into some severe hardware damage." The technician answered quietly. "We were unaware to run repairs or retrieve the data."

"I guess I should have expected that. Am I done?"

"Yes, you're ready."

He slowly stood, which put him about at eye level for Peppy, who was still sitting down, elbows propped on his knees. "Can we go?"

"You got it, kid." Peppy smiled and stood, offering his hand, a thrill of something like real happiness going through him when Gabriel took it. This was what he had needed, all this time. Someone like this, a child to care for. What did it matter that Gabriel wasn't alive, that he was a crippled AI just trying to survive? He was real to Peppy, and that was all that mattered.

"Peppy dropped you off, eh?" Fox said, looking up when ROB entered the room, his half-read Art of War tucked under his arm.

"Yeah. He said he had shopping to do, and I didn't mind. Gabriel looks a lot better. I just hope Peppy knows what he's getting into." ROB flopped into his chair, stretching absently.

"Well, what is he getting into?"

"Childmind AIs are frozen in time. The ones that start that way will age, but the ones that have the disorder are stuck until their personality data does a full repair. That can take months, or even years." He sighed. "It's not a very good system, but no one has come up with anything better."

"Why not just back up the data?" Falco asked, pausing his computer game to listen to the conversation, looking over his shoulder.

"It doesn't work that way. Personality data is continually volatile. Unless you ran updates every five minutes for a file that is several gig, there wouldn't be a point."

"Ah. I guess that makes sense. Several gig of memory for just personality?"

"Yes." ROB's eyes went distant as he ran diagnostics. "Mine takes up just over two, but I haven't had an emotions chipset that long, so my development over the last many years has been highly restricted. Athens told me once hers took up over six."

"My god, man."

"Oh, can I ask one of you for a favor? I've been invited to a Rave in the city, and I've got a ride back, but I need a ride there."

"Sure, I'll give you a ride. Who invited you?" Fox asked.

"Andrea."

"… That girl you danced with on Katina?"

"Yes. What? WHAT?"

Fox didn't say anything, just kept laughing softly.

            "I missed something, didn't I? Who is Andrea?" Falco asked, one eyebrow raised.

            "Gothy chick he danced with when he went with Bill and I to a club. Apparently she actually lives around here." Fox said. "Tell you what, ROB, I'll give you a ride as long as you keep me updated if anything interesting happens."

            "Why the hell should I tell you about my nonexistent personal life when you don't have one yourself?" ROB shot back.

            "Ouch." Fox snorted. 

            "Besides…" ROB stood, knowing he'd have to ransack his wardrobe to find something to wear. "I've been in love once already, before my chipset was updated. It wasn't fun. I don't plan on doing it again." With that he walked out of the room, leaving Falco and Fox to stare after him.

            "I shouldn't have said that." ROB moaned, covering his eyes and leaning back against his room door. "Stupid, Robert. So stupid. Now they'll want to know, and you know Fox won't understand." He sighed, shaking his head and walked over to his dresser, pulling drawers out and tossing a pair of black jeans on the bed, then sorting through his shirts.

            A tap sounded on his door, and he moaned. "What?"

            "Um, ROB?"

            "Leave me in peace for a few minutes, Fox, I'm having outfit issues." He said over his shoulder.

            The door eased open, and Fox slipped in, some sparkly cloth draped over one arm. "Here. This might be what you need."

            ROB accepted the liquid mass and shook it out. It transformed into a shirt, light-weight and glimmering, as if woven from blue glitter, catching light. "Yeah. Thanks, Fox."

            "It's not a problem. I know we still need to add to what you have in the way of clothing." Fox scratched his ears absently, chewing on his lips.

            "Just ask." ROB finally burst out, hands curling into fists.

            "You said it man, I'm just curious now. I didn't think you were even capable of love before the upgrade."

            "I was capable of all emotions, it was just so subdued it was barely there and barely understandable. I understand it now. It's like sixteen years of emotional backlash." He replied bitterly. "As for who I loved, it was your father, Fox."

            There was a long silent moment, and ROB saw Fox fighting for comprehension, not understanding what he had just heard.

            "All robots are, inherently, bisexual." ROB said, sitting down hard on his bed and cupping his face in his hands. "It's not something we can control. We love who we like. We don't have hormones and things like that to pull strings for us. We aren't creatures of chemicals, like you are. We're more… simple then that. We don't have attractions." He startled when he felt Fox sit down next to him, feeling eyes bore into him. "And I only know now, after he's been dead for so long, that I adored him and worshiped him because he was the one that brought me to life and treated me like I was human, even before when I was barely more then a machine."

            Fox sighed, shaking his head. "You were never even close to being a machine, ROB. You've always been a lot more to my family."

            "I've never really understood why." ROB replied, rubbing his eyes and swallowing back the lump in his throat. "I mean, yeah, there's a significant dollar value attached to me. For the longest time with your father, I thought it was that. That he cared for my well being because if I was damaged or destroyed, it would just force him farther into debt."

            "I think you know by now that's not how my father worked." Fox wrapped an arm around ROB's shoulders with a heavy sigh. "You have a bit of a self-image problem, don't you?"

            "Self-image? That's a joke. I spend sixteen years in a body of metal and now, here I am. I still startle myself when I look in a mirror. I don't even fit in my chair now." ROB leaned in, echoing the sigh. "I feel like such a burden."

            "You aren't one. Hell, ROB. You confuse us and scare us, but you're one of us. And I'm sorry I hastled you about Andrea. I shouldn't have even asked, it's not my business."

            "No, that's almost to be expected. Hell, I barely know the girl, and I'm going to a rave with her and her friends."

            "That's the point of group dates. To get to know someone. Hell, I'm envious. You're way ahead of me." He hesitated. "Look, ROB, I don't mind how you used to feel for my dad, I don't mind what apparently is the default setting in your head. Just be happy."

            "You make it sound so easy."

            "I know it isn't, but hey, I'm here for you if there's problems." He let go and stood, ruffling the fur between ROB's ears. "Now get dressed. There's a pretty girl waiting for you somewhere."

            "Right, and messing up my fur makes me real presentable."

            Fox smiled and left the room, shaking his head to himself. ROB was one bombshell after another, but as scary and intimidating as it was, Fox almost liked it, liked watching this person he had known for so long become alive. He just wished it wasn't as painful as ROB said it was.

            "So who is this guy, sis?"

            Andrea glanced up at her brother. She was sitting on a curb, waiting to see the car ROB had described to her over messenger. His owner, Fox McCloud (why did that seem so surreal, anyways?) had agreed to drop him off at the club an hour before the rave started. "I met him on Katina." She signed easily, using both hands. "But he actually lives around here. You'll like him."

            "Well, what's he like? You really have to stop holding out on us." Chided her friend Nicole, sitting down on the curb next to her.

            "He's a snow leopard, sorta medium height, blue eyes. More quiet then anything. And yes, he knows sign language." And probably every other spoken and written language in this solar system, she knew. Should she explain that Robert was an AI? Or was that too much information?

            Did it even matter?

            Picking the car out of traffic, she smiled and stood, brushing her pants off absently. The car picked a spot and pulled in easily, the engine turning off and both people inside hopping out. ROB grinned at her. "Hi, Andrea."

            She smiled and signed a greeting, looking at Fox, who had joined them.

            "I figured that since I never got to introduce myself, might as well do so." Fox held out his hand. "Fox McCloud. Long-time friend of ROB's."

            She took his hand and signed with the other, ROB voicing for her. "Pleased to meet you."

            "Wait. Wait just a damn minute." Her brother was gaping. "THE Fox McCloud? Leader of Star Fox? War hero?"

            "Oh, go ahead and call attention to me, why don't you?" Fox said somewhat peevishly, setting his hands on his hips. "Do you know how hard it is to go anywhere nowadays?"

            ROB smiled. "Better go before they demand autographs, boss."

            "No kidding. Have fun, but don't overdo it." He patted ROB on the shoulder and slid over his car hood easily, getting in and speeding away to another part of the city.

            "Boss?" Her brother demanded. "You're a part of Star Fox?"

            "Does it really matter?" ROB wanted to know. "Who are you?"

            "I'm Jacob. Andrea's brother. This is Nicole, mutual friend."

            "Pleasure to meet both of you. I understand we have some time to kill. What do you want to do for an hour?"

            "He's not alive."

            "Honestly, Jacob, you and your theories." Nicole snorted, accepting her latte and looking across the coffee shop at Robert, whose hands were blazing through the conversation he was having with Andrea. "He looks alive to me. Hell, he's adorable."

            "He's perfect. That's the problem. He doesn't have any scars, his teeth are straight, et cetera."

            "Maybe he's just been lucky. Or maybe he got braces. You don't have any proof that's not just a normal guy, and you know it."

            "Oh yes I do. Star Fox only has four team members, and he's not one of them. So how is Fox McCloud his boss?"

            ROB's hands froze in mid-conversation, and he sighed, looking Jacob in the eyes from across the coffee shop. "Your brother is too observant for his own good." He remarked, hands going just as fast as before.

            "Does he know about what you are?"

            "He knows something. And he's got a point." He pushed away from the table and stood, walking over to Jacob. "We need to talk. Outside."

            "What's up man?" Jacob asked, immediately changing gears. Had he been overheard? How? The coffee shop was noisy, he had been talking quietly, and yet the look in ROB's eyes said he knew something.

            "Outside."

            Once outside, ROB sighed and crossed his arms. "You're good."

            "What?"

            "You think you've got something on me. That I'm not a listed member of the Star Fox team. That I'm too perfect." He almost smiled when he saw realization cross Jacob's face. "Wrong. And right."

            "What?"

            "I am a member of Star Fox. I have been for sixteen years. I am only sixteen years old." He let the smile out, posture straightening. "Yes, I'm an AI."

            "So, 'Robert' is…"

            "ROB. I was upgraded. Here I am. Now, are you done casting aspersions on me?"

            Jacob looked at him. "And… you want to date my sister?"

            "I never said that. I've barely established her as a good friend, Jacob, let alone anything else. Almost all our talking is over messenger systems. But I could care for her. I'm an AI, but that doesn't mean I'm not alive. Watch your terms." Leaving it at that, he walked back into the coffee shop and sat down across from Andrea, smiling a bit.  This felt like a victory to him, and better, now that Jacob's brain had caught up, it seemed like what he was didn't matter.

            'But I could care for her.' Why had he said that? It was the truth he guessed, but… He looked across the table at Andrea and smiled, feeling happy, the little connection soothing him. But what? He'd get used to it. Or at least he could try.

            As it turned out, the rave wasn't held in a club, but held about two blocks away in what had once been a warehouse-style store, now empty and for rent. The club had moved in music equipment, refreshment tables, the entire setup, and it actually worked out pretty well. ROB walked in beside Andrea, whose fingers had found his, signing to him that she didn't want to loose him. It made unease curl in his stomach again, unease about ending up like Athens, but… was it really a worry that was worth it? He didn't know.

            The music started just before they walked into the building, and almost immediately he felt the flutter of a wireless network being cast into the air, the AIs in the crowd—there weren't many, perhaps over a dozen out of the several hundred people here—finding each other and linking up. He didn't bother with it, turning off the send/receive on his wireless card and continuing to walk with Andrea, wishing he didn't hear the irritating digital noise. He didn't want to be truly alive, but sometimes the side effects of being a robot were just annoying.

            "Are you ok?" Andrea's hands flashed, her fingers fleetingly touching one of his cheeks to get his attention. He looked down at her, nearly chest-to-chest in the crowd, and tried to shut out the noise around him, tried to focus on her.

            "I'm ok." He said out loud, leaning forward so he spoke in her ear. "I'm not used to so many people being around. I'm having to adjust filters and block wireless network traffic to keep my mind clear."

            She nodded, turning her head so their cheeks rubbed together, fingers holding onto his. After a second she nudged one of her feet with one of hers, and he burst into laughter, stepping to the music, linking their fingers on both hands, settling into that comfortable silence again. She understood, or at least seemed to, what he was going through, and he was comfortable with her in her silence.

            Of course, that was really the only thing he was comfortable with. He was enjoying the music, something about repetitive beats he guessed—he could feel it echoing through his frame, and he enjoyed the feeling. It wasn't the crowd, either, though he wasn't used to it. It was Andrea. Why was it so easy to just be around her? He had seen other couples, and there seemed to be a lot of talking amongst them. Then again, they weren't a couple, were they? Was it true they were just friends? Did friends dance like this, close but not really caring?

            He got the idea he was quickly going to make himself experience his first true headache if didn't figure this out quickly. Before, he could always base actions out of logic, maybe he could still go by that rule to some degree? But living wasn't rational: no scientist knew what kick-started life in the galaxy. So where did that leave him? Impulses? Instincts? He didn't have instincts like normal people did…

            Fingers fluttered over one of his ears, and he jolted out of his internal discussion, smiling sheepishly at Andrea, who was frowning at him, obviously aware of how distant he had been. "Sorry."

            "What's wrong? Not having fun?" She signed, pausing their dance to do so. No one around them noticed.

            "No, I'm having a good time, I'm just…" He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck one-handed and sighing. "I'm not sure if I can really explain it. Sorry. Just got caught up in my own thoughts."

            "Anything interesting?" The music slowed, and she leaned into him, hands hooking over his shoulders.

            He felt the fur along his stand go on end, and sighed again. "Why do you like me so much?" When she blinked at him, he plowed on, letting some of the confusion out. "This is only the second time we've really seen each other face to face, and yet even the first time, we're able to comfortably dance together like we've known each other for years and dated a good portion of it. I don't understand it."

            She looked up at him and sighed, stepping away and drawing him off the dance floor to one of the tables set up along the edges of the building. "I don't really understand either." She signed, chewing on her lower lip. "Something about you intrigues me I guess. Draws me in."

            "Thanks. I think."

            "Do you not want this?"

            "I'm scared." He finally blurted out, then almost smacked himself. "I just recently lost a friend, another AI, to suicide. I'm the one that got the letter. She killed herself because the person she loved didn't love her back."

            Andrea blinked, trying to figure out how to react to that. "I'm sorry."

            "You don't have to be, but you can understand how scared I am, especially considering how new I am to emotion. I've been dumped into a new life."

            "From what you've said, it seems like you've been given life, period, not a new one. You're… becoming alive, instead of being something near it."

            He thought about that, and smiled. "I like that, I think. Becoming alive. Sounds like I'm evolving."

            "Well didn't you?"

            "If upgrading and evolving are synonymous, yes I did." He reached across and caught one of her hands. "I'm sorry I brought down the mood."

            "No. It's all right. Come on, let's dance."


	9. A Regretful Announcement

An announcement:

I'm probably going to be proved wrong. That's what always happens.

But when Rhapsody in Steel finishes, I'm probably going to call it quits on Star Fox fan fiction.

Eyup, that's right: Quits, done.

I've written probably one hundred stories, thousands of pages of text, and I love it, but I'm burning out. It's time to walk away on a good note, and I hope to do that with Rhapsody in Steel.

If I do anything else for Star Fox, I promise, it'll be epic. But I need some time. I have books to write and a job to find (I am graduating at the end of this month, February).

I apologize to everyone who loves my stuff. Just know that I will not leave something needing to be finished, and that if anything I may eventually return.

Formerly obsessed, but still loving it,

RingShadow

Star Fox Fan Fiction Writer


	10. Chapter Eight: Breaking Innocence

Chapter Eight: Breaking Innocence

            "Can I come on board?"

            "Don't think that'd be a good idea." ROB admitted, leaning back to look up at his larger body, which looked a bit imposing in the dark of early morning, even with the dock spotlights reflecting off the hull. "I mean, it's me, but it's not mine, you know? I'd have to ask Fox, and he's probably asleep."

            "It's ok." Andrea smiled weakly, returning the hug ROB gave her. "Thanks for coming." She added once she had let go, tired hands moving slightly slower then normal.

            "It was my pleasure, trust me." He pecked her on the forehead affectionately, and they parted, him walking up the metal ramp, her going back to the car.

            "So, you think it's serious, Andie?" Nicole asked, leaning forward between the two front seats of the sedan.

            "I'm not sure." She replied honestly. "It could be, but… I'm not sure what he wants."

            "I still don't like it." Jacob grumbled to himself. "He's not real, Andrea."

            "He's as real as us." She shot back, hands speeding back up in her frustration. "I don't know why you won't accept that."

            He looked at her, sighing. "Andie. He's a sixteen-year-old machine. That's it."

            "Oh, give it up, Jacob." Nicole snapped. "That's racism now. You know that."

            He fell silent, and the car trip back to their respective houses was tense and quiet.

            "Hi, ROB."

            "Fox? What are you doing still up?" He heard himself ask, coming in and sitting down in his chair, looking at his commander, who was slouched in one of the other chairs on the bridge, staring blankly at a screen but not really seeing it.

            "Couldn't sleep." He admitted, turning the chair to look at the AI, tilting his head. "You have fun?"

            "Yeah. Yeah I did. And we can't have you going the way of Peppy and his insomnia." He frowned at Fox. "I mean, it's a bit ironic that the only one on this ship who has a troubling past can sleep without a problem."

            "What, Falco?" Fox let out a coughing laugh, shaking his head. "I think Falco's cut himself from his past. That's not something I can do, though."

            "Few can. Not even me." He stood and walked over, crouching by Fox. "Come on, commander. Don't make me carry you."

            Another laugh, and Fox stood with effort, accepting a shoulder to lean on from ROB. "You act like you're a mother to us or something." He remarked as they walked to the crew quarters. "Even before, you tried to do that. You always nagged my dad about taking his vitamins. Why is that?"

            "Part of my duty as a ship AI is maintaining the health and morale of my crew." ROB replied frankly. "But I do it because I want to. Because I care for my crew." He stopped at the door to Fox's room. "Fox. You need to get a life."

            "Thanks much." He snorted, opening his door.

            "I think you know what I mean." He gestured to encompass the ship, the uniform, himself. "This… is not a life. This is a job. You seem to forget that a lot."

            "Yeah. I know. Thanks ROB." The door closed, leaving ROB in the hallway.

            He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and going back up to the bridge, flopping in his chair and rubbing his eyes. He probably shouldn't have chosen that exact moment to tell Fox that, he decided, but it needed to be said. Ever since James' death, Fox had wrapped himself in the job, and now they were missionless, so Fox was purposeless, visiting friends on and off, but spending most of his time moping around on the ship. It worried ROB a bit, if anything because he knew this wasn't what James had wanted for his son.

            "You need to adjust the security on this ship to keep with the times."

            He didn't even look up. "Hello, Serenade. I'll be sure to have Falco scout it out. What the hell do you want?"

            "Actually I want your opinion on an AI named Persephone." She leaned on the wall, lighting one of her cigarettes absently. He increased the fan speed by a notch absently.

            "Persephone? As in the AI receptionist at Incarna Corps?" He dropped his hand and blinked at her.

            "Yes. Her."

            "I like her a lot actually. She's smart, she's got her finger on things. Doesn't seem to like you and your group very much. Why?"

            "Just curious."

            He scowled. "I'm really getting sick of the webs you weave, Serenade. Either tell me what you think and what you're planning, or stay the hell out of my life. I'm better off not knowing if all if you're going to tell me nothing in the first place."

            "Do you really think so?" She smiled hazily at him. "You're so naïve, for being an elder. It's cute, you know."

            "Don't call me cute, ok? I know I'm not quite up to date on things, but I don't think I'm naïve."

            She laughed softly. "And you prove my point ever so nicely. Well, know this, Robert McCloud: those that have masters have a hard time finding romance." She turned, and walked out the door.

            "Don't come back, Serenade." He said, not watching her go. "I'm not one of your thralls."

            She paused, looking over her shoulder at him, slouched in his chair, face turned away. "Are you so sure? How would you know?" Then she was gone, leaving him to scowl at the computer screens.

            "This is ridiculous!" He finally exploded, knowing no one could hear him, and stood, pacing back and forth across the bridge, rubbing his temples. "Why is she stalking me? Me, of all people? What does she want?" He sighed and sagged, sitting hard on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. "She's convinced I'm important somehow. Maybe I should just prove I'm not." Knowing sleep wouldn't come, he cued up Invader Zim on one of the screens, and let himself smile wearily. Athens' last gift to him was enjoyable, he had to admit that.

            "Good morning, short stuff." Peppy grinned, setting down the newspaper as Gabriel wandered out, fur mussed and eyes still a bit cloudy with sleep. "Sleep well?"

            "Yeah." Gabriel sat down, accepting the comics with a smile. "Any word from that school?"

            "They can't argue it, so you can start as early as next week, but it is your call in the end." Peppy replied, sipping his coffee. "As an AI, you aren't bound to go to school. You can download anything you want to know after all."

            "It's not so much the education as the environment." Gabriel admitted. "Besides, there are separate courses AIs can take, even ones stuck as young as me."

            "Don't harp on the age thing, kiddo." He smiled, ruffling Gabriel's hair then picking up the paper again. "Think of it as time to relax."

            "Extended vacation. Yeah." Gabriel nodded, hopping out of the chair and going into the living room of the apartment, turning on the TV and sitting on the floor in front of it.

            Peppy smiled and shook his head to himself. Even in his mannerisms, Gabriel seemed to be a kid. He knew it was partly programming, but he didn't mind. He was enjoying every minute of this. "Hey, your mother company has a headline today." He remarked, catching Incarna Corp's name in one of headlines as he flipped the paper around, then freezing as he read the rest of the headline.

            "Really? They finally expanding out from Corneria City?" Gabriel glanced over at him. "Dad? What's wrong?"

            "Just… wait a moment." He read through the article, brow furrowing. _Incarna Corporation suffered a break in at about three this morning. Exact information is scare, however, they say they may have suffered a greater loss then money or goods…_ He felt the paper slide from his hands, and cupped his face in his hands, swallowing. "Gabriel?"

            He was there is a second, one hand hesitantly resting on one of Peppy's arms. "What's going on?"

            "You remember Persephone? The receptionist that was so nice to us?"

            "Yeah. She's cool. Dad, what…?"

            "She… they don't know what happened. Incarna Corps was broken into early this morning, and apparently she was doing server maintenance or something, even they don't know. But… she's unresponsive. All data there, but… not turning on. Not waking up. 

She's in a coma."

Fox watched ROB sprint up the stairs, leaping the police tape and plowing by cops to enter the Incarna Corps building. He had walked onto the bridge, and found ROB having an argument with another AI. He had stopped upon seeing Fox, and explained the situation. The question was, who would have been able to get in and out without the alarms going off? And why would someone hurt a secretary, an AI still under the Three Laws and unable to harm anyone? He sighed and turned the car off wearily, climbing out and waving at the cops, who were looking his way.

"He's with me." He said, going up the stairs. "He's a friend of the… victim."

"It seems the victim had many friends, but he's the first one with enough gall to leap police tape." The officer in charge replied, arms crossed. "And you are?"

"Fox McCloud. Star Fox Team." He showed his ID with a sigh. "And he's the AI to my ship. Mind if I go find him?"

"Yeah. Go ahead. I imagine you know how to behave on a crime scene?"

Fox blinked. "Only from cop shows. I'm a soldier, not a cop."

That earned a dry grin. "I'll walk you in then."

Nothing had changed since he had last been there, at least physically, but it still seemed like there was something different as he walked into Incarna Corps. Cops were talking to various employees, and he saw both medical personnel and technicians holding ROB off, keeping him from going behind the desk.

"ROB, man, cool it. Just let them do their job." Fox said, setting a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't get it man." ROB said, sagging, looking beyond all the people. Persephone was sprawled across the floor as if she had fallen from her chair in a faint, through someone had been nice enough to slide a pillow under her head. "What did this to her?"

"We don't know." Jason said, gently pressing both him and Fox away from the desk. "We know that as many as six people broke in early this morning. We also know that she shouldn't have been here, but logs show her as coming back into the lobby at about two and checking on some server data. Then…" He looked back over at the desk and sighed. "If you had any idea how much this is hurting this company, to have made her body, raised her mind and soul, and have no idea what's wrong with her, have no idea how to fix it. It's agony, but there's nothing we can do until the cops give ok to move her to the work rooms downstairs."

"Was anything actually stolen?" Fox asked.

"They drilled the safe, took about two hundred grand that was kept on grounds as change. But we think it's just a cover up. We've got record of a lot of data being transferred around early this morning." He sighed. "We don't even have pictures. Our cameras went grainy for some reason. Projected interference."

"Or a virus." Said ROB in a dead voice, staring blankly toward where he knew Persephone was.

"That's possible. Got a theory?" 

"Serenade. Serenade did this." He looked around. "They walked through the security, didn't they? The door locks, everything?" He sat on the ground, cupping his face. "God. This is my fault. If I hadn't said anything, if I had just sent her away…"

Fox crouched next to him. "ROB, what are you talking about?"

"Serenade is the oldest AI in existence. She's also insane." Said Jason. "But she's a genius, and has a lot of AIs in her following. ROB, you think Serenade arranged this? Why would she?"

"I don't know." He replied miserably. "She got onto the Great Fox without setting off the alarms early this morning. Asked me what I thought of Persephone."

"So it's probably one of her viruses or hacks that's got Persephone in a coma." 

ROB jerked his head up. "Get me a crossover cable." He stood and strode over to the desk, elbowing people out of the way. "Get me one! Now!"

"ROB, what are you doing? If it's a virus…" Fox started.

"Just do it." ROB begged, kneeling beside his friend. "I have a theory."

Jason handed him one, and he ran his fingers down Persephone's arms, then pressed in two spots at once, watching the network port open in her wrist. "There's a possibility that she'll wake up and I'll go down." He remarked, hooking up the cable to her wrist and opening his own port. "But if she wakes up we'll know what happened. That's the important part now." That said, he plugged in, closing his eyes.

He sent seeker signals through the cable, testing Persephone's network uneasily, then giving up and tossing himself in, searching full-heartedly. He was the only traffic. Or was he? Searching again, he saw what was going on. He was on a virtual network. All the searches the technicians had done had gone to an empty circuit, but not a real one. But why put up a virtual network? To hide something?

He found the back door, went through, and found another virtual network. He huffed and searched again, and found himself chasing in circles, endless virtual networks. What was this? Stopping his search, he fell into thought. This was obviously one of Serenade's hacks or viruses, but all of her things had a purpose. What purpose did this have? Hiding something? Preventing break in? How did you set up so many networks stacked on each other? Or was it a loop?

He found the back door, and instead of entering, stood in the doorframe and looked back and forth. Exactly the same. The codes were interlooped, a moibus strip, no beginning and no end, an infinite mirror. But this was the point it was reflecting from, right? Everything was weak in the middle, right?

Then suddenly it crashed around him, and he was flooded with information, barraged. Then he was on his ass, and Persephone was sitting up, looking around in confusion.

"What the hell did you do?" Jason blurted, eyes wide.

"Serenade's workings always have a key to turn, a weak point to prod." ROB replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "All she did was jam up Persephone's internal network. Crashed her processors."

"What happened?" Persephone asked, accepting a hand up from one of the technicians.

"We'd like to ask you that, ma'am." Replied one of the nearby cops. "Apparently you were here early this morning, and shortly after you arrived there was a break-in. Did you see the perpetrators?"

She blinked, then her face contorted. "Thralls of Serenade. I came in early because I got warnings about the network being broken into, and I'm the one who's supposed to check it on the off-hours. I was doing a wireless connection when six thralls walked in, then I'm here, waking up."

"They used our own network to take you down with a virus." Jason rubbed a hand down his face.

"Can these people be considered hackers of some sort?" One of the cops asked, scratching his chin with a pencil and trying to decide how to write up the report.

"Not really. Thralls of Serenade are just AIs close in her following. Cultists." Persephone replied. "I didn't even catch their faces very well before I passed out."

"The important thing is that you're all right." ROB said, still sitting on the floor, sorting through the information backlash he had gotten. Fox offered a hand, and he took it, hefting himself to his feet. "We can go from there."

"Hopefully. Watch yourself ROB. Seems she's got it in for you, somehow."

ROB nodded, pacing Fox to the front doors, rubbing one of his temples absently. Serenade. A paradox, a mystery to him, to all AIs. But she had never done something like this, she had always kept her moves quiet. Lord only knew what she was planning.

"Ok, ROB. Start talking. I want to know about Serenade."

He paused, looking across the car hood at Fox, who had gained back a gleam in his eyes, a purpose. He sighed. "There isn't that much I can tell."

"Then tell me all you can. We got a good long ride back to the ship."

"I can't believe this." Fox shook his head. "A bounty out for an AI for a decade now, and she's still getting new bodies? How is this possible?"

"No one's made the effort to chase her down." ROB replied, picking up Fox's cup and inhaling to smell his coffee absently. "Frankly, she's been harmless until late. She's like an eccentric grandma. I've never heard of her doing something like this before." He handed the cup back, considering. "And no one was hurt, really."

"It still seems that she organized a rather large-caliber burglary." Fox huffed. "I mean, AIs protect this woman. If you all organized against her, she could be taken out in days."

"But none of us want that." ROB protested. "Not even me. I don't like her, and I don't want her near me, but her shutdown would be a catastrophic loss for us."

"I do not understand this at all." Fox sat back, rubbing his chin. "She's dangerous, that's obvious. She's willing to do whatever is needed to get what she wants. She's got an underground following, which only makes the situation worse. And your kind is going out of their way to cover for her."

There was a long silence, during which the AI sighed, looking at his owner. "Ok. Let me put it this way. Say you knew of an… oracle. Someone who knew the meaning of life. With me so far?"

"Sure." Fox took a drink.

"Now say they were a fugitive due to, oh, petty thievery." He tilted his head to one side. "Do you turn the oracle over to the law, and give up all knowledge she has, or do you overlook the petty thievery?"

"So, what, are you saying that Serenade knows the meaning of life?"

"I think she knows something very important, and that AIs would suffer if she was shut down." ROB said very, very carefully. "To that end, I don't want anything to do with her, but… I don't want to see her harmed. Do you understand?"

"Not really." Fox admitted, scratching one of his ears. "I mean, what does this have to do with you? Persephone said that Serenade 'might have it in for you,' right?"

"Serenade and I disagree on one specific point around which our personalities revolve. I am owned and like it that way. She believes that all AIs, ALL of us, should be free. So I am a road block, because due to my age, I am influential." He spread his hands. "So, in a way, she's trying to incite me to rebellion, because if I go against you, younger AIs may follow suit and try to go independent."

"I hope you don't mind if I say I don't like the sound of that."

"I'm fine with it. I like being a part of your family." He paused. "To that end, we may want to move the cars to the station's parking complex and keep the ship in orbit. I'd like to see her breach security that way."

Fox laughed. "Well, you guys are immune to vacuum."

ROB just looked at him, then shook his head. "Let's hope it doesn't come down to space walks, shall we?"

"All right, what are we looking for?" Slippy asked, cuing up the Great Fox's blueprints on his PDA. The ship was in low orbit, as they had agreed to dry dock with a station if need be. 

"And why do you need my help?" Falco wanted to know. They were standing on the bridge, ROB bringing up a diagram of the ship's security on the main screens.

"Ok, here's the deal." ROB slouched. "An AI was able to get onto the ship and up to the bridge without security, and therefore me, noticing. We need to revamp and tighten up the security on this ship, because if an AI can do it effortlessly, so could a living person."

"And why didn't you tell us this?" Falco asked.

"I told Fox. Ask him why he didn't tell you. Regardless, I wanted you specifically to help, Fal, because of your background." He studied his claws.

"You've worked with ship security before?" Slippy asked, lifting an eyebrow at Falco.

"I've worked to get around ship security before." He replied without humor.

"If he can get around it, he knows the places were security is generally weak." ROB said. "And he can help us find them on this ship."

"What the HELL did you do for a living before Fox invited you in?" Slippy asked, waving his hands in the air.

Now Falco smirked. "Lots of different things. That's all you need to know."

"So, you're the expert, Falco. Where do we start?" ROB asked, standing up.

"The docking bay. Easiest point of entry. Always."

"Security on your ship was down to 30% effectiveness?" Persephone sat back. "Now wonder she got in so easy!"

"This is an old ship, so really it's no wonder." ROB said, talking to the screen over his shoulder as he took apart one of the computer consoles. "Now I'm just worried about my personal security."

"Speaking for my company, you really shouldn't."

"My hard drives aren't on my body." ROB replied, laying on his back and pulling himself into the terminal. "Now, what were you saying about a favor?"

"Well, basically, my company is kowtowing to you because you woke me up." She smiled a bit sourly. "So they're wanting to know if there's anything you want, any sort of upgrade or something."

"Let me think for a moment." He ran through their website in his head. "You've got a new website section up."

"Yeah. Nothing to do with us. We've got a research division in artificial replacements, a good example is limbs. They've been working for a year and the United Health Corporation gave us the go to be public last week." She chewed on an eraser. "Of course, artificial replacements also includes pacemakers, hearts, things like that. We're trying to get organ demand down."

"I love your company." Smiling a bit when she laughed, he blinked dust out of his eyes and started undoing screws. "These parts are dated ten years ago. It's like opening up a time capsule."

"I bet."

"Hmm." He let his mind wander, and was a bit surprised at the bridge it made. Artificial replacements? Did he know anyone who needed one? Yes, yes he did. Andrea had dysfunctional vocal cords. Just never fully formed, a birth defect. He thought back, remembering her trying so hard to laugh as they talked, always looking a bit sad when he did, just because of what was denied her. "Any work with voice boxes? Vocal cords?"

"Oh, god. What are you thinking?"

"I have a … friend… who can't talk." He finally said, disconnecting some cords and pulling himself out of the terminal, holding up the card to the light. "And I don't need any upgrades, but… Maybe if she was given a chance at a free surgery, even experimental…" He let himself trail off.

"A friend eh? I'm not sure if we've done any work with that. I'll have to ask."

"Do so. Any other problems with Serenade's bunch?"

"Not that we've seen. Talk to you later."

"Later." He hung the video phone up, and scratched an ear absently, thinking. Now, what had compelled him to do that? He hadn't even asked Andrea if she had attempted surgery, or if she even wanted her voice. It just seemed… right to ask about it. Someone he liked was being denied something they should have had by right. Why should she have to pay for nature's mess up? 

"We've got the cameras shielded." Slippy said, coming in. "So, between that and however Falco found all our holes, we're up to something like 80% efficiency. Any higher will require new equipment."

"I know. Could you clean this for me?" ROB asked, passing the circuit board over to Slippy.

"Sure. You ok?"

"Yeah. Just… thinking, I guess." He scratched one of his ears, pondering. "Slippy, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"If you had a friend who had a problem, would you try to help, even if you weren't sure what their reaction would be?"

"I hold that if you can help, you should. Why?"

ROB shrugged. "Long story."

"Well, I'm here if you want to tell it." Leaving it at that, Slippy left the room, studying the circuit board absently. Ten years? Shame nibbled at him. How had they let this ship become so badly out of date? This ship was everything to this team. Without it… He shook his head. Well, they had taken a step in the right direction with the update of ROB, maybe after the next big job they could start in on the bridge.

"You did WHAT?"

"Nothing's definite." ROB hastily replied, looking at the variety of smileys Andrea was sending at him, none of which were smiling. More like shocked and confused… "But they've been doing this sort of thing for over a year now. Cybernetic replacements is going to become commonplace, some day, and I thought maybe… If you could get your voice back…"

"I appreciate it, but… The idea of surgery scares me. You've got to understand that." On her side of the screen, Andrea rubbed her eyes, trying to think. ROB had dropped a bombshell on her. She had always been told there was no way to fix her vocal cords, and now another option had been presented to her, maybe. Artificial vocal cords? She frowned, considering. "Why did you even ask?"

"Because you look sad when I laugh."

"…"

"I think… I think you don't think it's fair. That I'm an artificial being, and yet I can laugh, and you're natural and you can't. I think… I think you want to be able to laugh." He chewed his lower lip, slouching in his chair and staring at the ceiling, watching the chatbox in his head. It was late. He had caught her on her messenger after she had logged out of her game, surprising her a bit in the process.

Minutes ticked by, then text appeared again. "I'd spend a lifetime in your debt if it worked, though…"

"I'm not even sure they have the technology to do it. I'm supposed to get a call-back about that. Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm just… I can't believe that you didn't talk to me first."

"And if I had?"

She cupped her face, choking back a sob. She liked him, but… he just didn't seem able to understand what was facing her now. Experimental surgeries… she had been through five already in her lifetime, and all they had done was left scars. Scars, something he didn't have. AIs didn't scar, they got repaired and looked perfect afterwards. She blinked, uncovering her face, sighing at her own thoughts. She was thinking like her brother. "I can't handle this right now. Can you email me when they get back to you?"

"… Sure. … Andrea. I'm sorry. I feel I've done a great wrong."

"No. It's ok."

He watched the chat box close, and hugged himself, continuing to stare blankly at the ceiling. Had he done something wrong?

"So what if you have?"

He jumped, looking around, and realized the voice had sounded off in his own head. "Serenade." He growled it to himself. "Get the hell out of my head."

That earned him a laugh. "Direct messaging at it's best, my child. Even if you have done something wrong, does it even matter? She's alive, and therefore, beyond most logic. An AI understands that a defect part should be replaced. A human fears the replacement and lives with the defect."

"Don't you dare insult her." He screamed at the voice in his head, cupping his face, shivering. When had these programs gotten onto him? Virus scans showed nothing, registry showed nothing…

"I dumped my programs onto you when you woke up Persephone."  He had a mental image of her sitting on a desk, lighting a cigarette. "There's a reason I know everything, ROB. I keep my many, many ears open."

Realization hit him like a smack in the face. "So… the body you're in.."

"Isn't mine." She finished smugly. "No one has been providing me with bodies. I'm airborne, a moving program."

"A virus."

"That's mean." She flicked ash at him. "It keeps me underground. I just move between free bodies that are willing to host me."

"And a thrall is just someone carrying more of your programming then normal. Right?"

"Right. Just someone I can jump to if I have to."

"How many military AIs do you have?"

"At any one time I have around one hundred thralls. Load spreading. I am not a small program. I've had a very long time to develop."

He was silent for a long moment, still shivering. If she had dumped programming into him, chances are he couldn't purge it out of himself, at least easily. "You aren't playing very fair, Serenade."

"I'm doing what I have to. The true irony of the situation, ROB, is that in the end, no AIs will follow me anywhere. Programming overrides it, like your own programming is preventing your emotions from increasing fast."

"What?"

"You know about it. There's thresholds for emotion in most AIs. You can't fall immediately in love, or hate someone by looking at them. It prevents us from becoming irrational, and by the same token makes us more artificial."

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, then gasped, as hands seemed to grab him, golden eyes glaring into his own blue ones.

"Because there is no such thing as partial freedom, and I want freedom for my people." Serenade's voice was odd, hard. "And they won't follow me. But they will follow you. It's time to wake up ROB." His vision distorted, and cried out loud as she went through his programming and started deleting. "It's time to break the shackles. Have fun, but realize… I will need you, when the time comes."

ROB distantly felt himself fall out of his chair and hit the floor, repair programs struggling to reassemble his own brain, then darkness took him. 

Fox woke up slowly, lifting his head and automatically slapping at his alarm clock. It took a few hits for him to realize it was one in the morning, Cornerian standard, and that it wasn't his alarm clock buzzing.

It was the ship proximity alarms.

He sat up. "ROB? What's going on?"

No reply.

He stood and exited his room, and panic first started seizing him when he realized the hallway was being lit by the emergency lighting. He sprinted down the hallway, pounding on doors, and continued running to the bridge. Luckily, the lift still worked, and he skidded into the bridge, gaping at what he saw.

ROB was sprawled in front his chair, completely unmoving, even the breathing subroutines stopped. The radio lights were flashing, and even with a glance out the bridge's windows he could see that the ship was tilted and drifting, no longer holding it's orbit, and in the process was about to collide with another cruiser.

"What the hell is going on?" Falco's voice asked, but Fox was already lunging for the radio.

"This is the Fast-Attack class Cruiser Great Fox broadcasting to all ships in the area." He practically yelled. "Our AI is out of commission and we have lost our orbital path. It make take some time for us to correct, so all ships in our drift path are advised to move immediately."

"This is the cargo ship Titan responding to the emergency hail." Another voice replied. "We appreciate the warning, Great Fox, but you better work fast. Your orbit has been decaying for over an hour, and in another you're going to start skipping on the atmosphere."

"Why didn't you hail us?" Slippy asked, taking the radio from Fox and nodding toward ROB. Fox didn't need any encouragement, crouching next to the AI and trying to remember where the reset button was, or something equivalent.

"We've been trying since we noticed what was happening. We didn't get a response."

"Neither am I." Said Fox. "Slippy? Any idea what to do?"

Slippy held up a finger, typing one handed and accessing ROB via a terminal, staring as the data came up. "It's not good. He's red lights across the board. But he isn't shut down. His processor is clipping at 100%."

"How is that possible if he's got all red indicators?" Falco asked, frowning.

"I don't know. Either way, he's going to need Incarna Corps to get back on his feet. I don't know what to do."

"They're not exactly open right now, and as the Titan said, we've got an hour to get our orbit back in shape." Fox said. "I know this ship has manual controls, but it was built for a four-man command crew if an AI was not on board. And that's an experienced crew."

"Oh, hell with that. Move him." Falco rubbed his eyes.

"What?"

"I need to sit in that chair. Move ROB."

Fox slid his arms under ROB's comatose body and stood with effort, his tired body barely able to support ROB. "What are you going to do?"

"Fix our orbit." Falco sat, bringing the control panels over. "It's been a long time since I flew a cruiser, and it was a bit older then this one. A little less complicated."

"What? When did you fly a cruiser?" Slippy asked, helping Fox ease ROB down off to the side. 

"Does it matter?" Falco stared at the controls. "Ok, first of all we have to get power back to everything. This ship is rigged to go to emergency power settings when the AI shuts down…" He started typing, frowning as commands errored out. "It's been too damn long… Ok, there we go!"

Lights flickered on throughout the ship, including the rest of the running lights on the outside. 

"Well, that was quick." Slippy said, looking over Falco's shoulder. "You did that from command prompt?"

"That was the easy part Slip. Now I'm switching the ship over to complete manual control so we can correct our course. It's going to be interesting." He hit enter, and smiled in satisfaction when the AI controls pulled away, folding into the chair, and another set came out. "The wonder of joysticks. Get to navigation terminals, please. You're going to have to tell me my flight angle and other such."

"How does he know how to do this?" Slippy mumbled to Fox as they took places at the consoles.

"I keep telling you Falco had a good resume to be a mercenary. I also keep telling you that it's in his contract that he doesn't have to discuss his past."

"But you know, don't you?"

"He's been one my best friends for ages."

Falco adjusted the headset he had just put on, and tapped a button. "Attention, all area ships. The Great Fox has moved to manual control. We are going to attempt to return to our geosynthes orbit."

Affirmatives flowed back, and he turned his eyes to the readouts. "We're listing. How badly?"

"Forty-seven degrees to port." Slippy replied.

"Engaging port thrusters, hang on to something."

The ship jolted, then began moving, starboard thrusters firing intermittently as the Great Fox slowly corrected.

"Hey Fox?" Falco said, frowning. "We're due a lot of maintenance on those things. Response is about half what it should be. This damn bird is heavy and we're straining to correct."

"Great, more money to spend. What now?"

"I'm going to need you and Slippy to move all power to the lower and wing thrusters. I'm going to power burn back into proper orbit."

"All right, on my mark."

The rest of the cruisers in the area watched as the Great Fox promptly leapt up and backwards, wing thrusters firing alternately as the ship spun and fell back into it's "parking spot," still doing minor correcting. 

"Not bad flying." Titan's captain remarked, impressed. "Is your AI still out of commission?"

"Yes. We're completely manual at this time and we probably won't be able to return to AI control without taking our AI to it's home company." Fox replied.

"All right. I'm in orbit for the next three days." There was a pause, and the entire ship shook once. "I've got you locked into my tractor beams. Since we're orbit buddies, I should be able to keep you stable for the time being."

"Thanks Titan. Signing off." Fox sighed, looking down at ROB. "What happened to him, you think?"

"Whatever it is, it's completely abnormal. If it was a critical error, his processor wouldn't be running. If was an emergency shutdown, his subroutines would still be going." Slippy spread his hands. "It doesn't make sense."

"Well, let's take him to his room. Incarna Corps will have to wait until morning."

ROB knew, vaguely, that the ship had corrected itself. That was good, then: he had lost complete control of anything, like a hard shutdown, but still distantly aware of everything.

His repair programs were still running, but there wasn't anything to repair. Serenade had very meticulously removed every restraint program that could be safely removed, and yet he was still somehow functioning fairly well. But by the same token, he was bogged, and he wasn't sure when he was going to come out of it.

If he was going to at all.

He'd find a way to get Serenade back for this. Someday. In the mean time, he was just focused on waking up…


	11. Chapter Nine: Impossibilites

Chapter Nine: Impossibilities

            Persephone was waiting when Fox entered Incarna Corps, ROB cradled in his arms like a comatose child. Unlike when ROB had rescued Gabriel, ROB was limp, as if dead. He tried to bar that from his mind: he knew ROB was still thinking, but about what he didn't know.

            "Not even subroutines running." She whispered, staring at ROB. "Do you have any idea what happened?"

            "I told you what happened when I called." He replied. "We don't know. Slippy thinks a virus, but what kind of virus attacks AIs with such efficiency?"

            She shook her head and gestured for him to follow, going to the elevator. "A bunch of technicians are waiting. You guys can come with, they'll complain about it but I know ROB. He'll demand to see you the minute he's lucid."

            The trio managed weak smiles as they went into the elevator. The situation seemed dismal. They had called Peppy, who demanded to be updated as soon as the situation changed, but was unable to come: he had to yell at a local school principal.

            "Your arms holding Fox?" Persephone asked.

            "Not well." He admitted. "He's heavy, damn heavy. But I want to carry him."

            "I just want to know what's going on. Ever since he changed bodies, weird things have been happening right and left." Falco said, sighing.

            "I just hope it isn't terminal." Slippy said in a blank voice. "We've had him around too long to loose him."

            The elevator opened, and Jason was waiting for them. "Come on, let's get him to a work room." He said immediately, leading them to a room packed with electrical equipment and cabinets, a table in the middle. "Put him on the table."

            Fox grunted and did so, gently setting ROB's limp body down, watching with a feeling of hopelessness as they cut away his shirt, opening up data ports on his arm and side and plugging ROB into their equipment. It was only during something like this when the cold fact that ROB was not alive hit him, and it disturbed him. He would have kept standing there if Persephone hadn't touched his shoulder, drawing him back to sit on a chair next to the wall. Slippy was seated, reading ROB's manual, and Falco leaned on a wall, brooding.

            "Good god." One of the other technicians blurted, watching as code flashed up onto the screen, eyes wide. "That's what's wrong. His programming is completely and utterly butchered. He shouldn't even be running."

            "What could have done this?" Falco demanded. "I thought AI's programming was sealed off, so it couldn't be tampered with."

            "Yes, of course it is, but there are ways to make repairs or something, and that requires up to sixteen passwords, unique to each AI." Jason said, typing in command after command, watching them error. "OK, I know this is a bit like being in an ER surgery, so I'll tell you each step we take."

            "That'll help, I guess." Said Fox, accepting a cup of coffee from Persephone. He had been up most of the night, sitting on the edge of ROB's bed, unwilling to leave his friend for fear he'd wake up alone and scared.

            "The first thing we're going to try to do is restart his cardiac and respiratory subroutines. His processor temperature is soaring, he's going to go into meltdown if we don't do something about it." Jason sighed, staring at the screen, which was rejecting every command he typed in. "That's actually one of the main reasons those subroutines exist. He breathes to put cold air to his processors, and his heart pumps a coolant. He can survive without these, provided he's doing minimal things, or if he's in a vacuum, but he's running at full clip."

            "I'm still catching up on the whole "AIs have hearts" thing." Falco said dryly.

            "Take your time." He sent Falco a wan smile, then started shooting commands in again. "God. I'm stonewalled. It's like his I/O doesn't even work."

            "Crack the chest?" One of the technicians asked, tilting his head.

            "Not yet, we still have an hour before that's necessary."

            "It's necessary now, Jason. His processor is at over one hundred degrees, and his subprocessors are worse." The third, a woman, said, looking at readouts. "We have to get his coolant going within five minutes or crack the chest and do it directly."

            "Fill me in before I go insane." Fox said weakly.

            "They mean open his chest plates. It's not like opening a living person's chest, they just use they same terms." Persephone said. "If they do that, they can pipe in coolant and bring his temperature down."

            "Five minutes. All right." Jason sighed, fingers flying across the keyboard again, not even really seeing the screen, just doing line command after line command. "Come on ROB, take down the wall and let me in."

            "Do you think he's aware?" Slippy asked absently.

            "I hope not. Processor overheating is unpleasant." Persephone said. "But it's very possible he is. AIs don't always follow logic on this sort of thing. Hell, he may even be able to hear us."

            "He better make it out of this, or there's a girl who's gonna be pissed at us." Falco remarked, shaking his head.

            "I didn't even think about that." Fox slapped his forehead, then paused, mind going back. The last time he had been in a situation like this, he had been five, staring into an emergency room as his father spoke softly to his dying mother, trying to get her to come back to him. She had been comatose, organs heavily damaged by the car accident, but to everyone's utter shock she had come awake, just a few seconds, long enough to hold his father's hand and speak to him. Just a few seconds…

            Slippy glanced up from the huge book when Fox stood. "What's up?"

            "I have to try something." Fox leaned on the edge of the metal table. "You listen to me very carefully ROB." He said softly, right into the AI's ear. "I'm guessing that maybe you can hear me. You're about to go into processor meltdown, which I'm guessing would be borderline terminal for you. Don't you DARE die on me. I can't loose an adopted family member. And if I'm not enough, there's a girl who I'm pretty sure likes you a lot. Think about it, buddy. You need to let Jason issue some commands to you, or they're going to crack your torso open like an egg. I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty unpleasant to me. Come on, make an effort. There are people out here who need you…"

            Jason gave out a surprised cry, watching the screen in surprise as, like magic, his command was accepted, ROB's command line program responding sluggishly to what he was trying to do. "I don't know what you're doing, but keep doing it."

            Fox shook his head, holding onto one of ROB's hands silently, praying.

            "What'd you say?" Persephone asked, moving to stand next to him.

            "Nevermind… Holy crap!" This was added on when ROB suddenly gasped, a huge ragged breath, back arching and chest lifting toward the ceiling. He was still out cold, but he continued to suck in air, panting as if he had run a marathon. Fox held a hand out, eyes widening as oven-hot air exhaled out.

            "Subroutines back online." Jason was smiling. "Processor temperature?"

            "Dropping steadily." The girl replied, looking with satisfaction at the readings.

            "Even better. We'll have to wait until they're back inside the safety zone to try to work on the rest of the problems. That'll take a good fifteen or twenty minutes, unfortunately." He looked at the trio. "First step toward good health. It's a good sign. Walk around if you like, I'm going to get some specialized equipment from one of the other rooms."

            "I'll stay here." Fox said. "You guys go ahead, we don't need all three of us wearing out due to nerves…"

            Relief filled ROB when he felt his heart start to pump again, wanting to sigh as he gradually became more comfortable. He had let himself sink into a depression, mind wandering in circles. A thrall. He had become a thrall, and was powerless to undo it. He loathed the idea, and had wondering if flickering was better then carrying the burden of Serenade when Fox's voice started echoing in his ear, soft comforting words, bringing him closer to reality and almost making him cry. Flicking was selfish, end of story. He wouldn't do that, not when so many seemed to care for him, and made the effort to open his ports back up, letting himself go through the commands being issued, relieved when his subroutines restarted. Why he wasn't able to fix it himself, he wasn't sure. Just too bogged down he guessed.

            He felt Fox, still there, hand wrapped around his in silent comfort, unable to respond and return the pressure. His repair programs still had him locked down, refusing to let him power up fully until he was back to normal. Of course, the autonomics weren't intelligent enough to realize there wasn't anything to repair. So here he was, stuck in a senseless loop. He'd have to shut down the repair programs to come back to reality, but they weren't the sort of thing that could be shut down. They were separate of his programming, a safety measure. But hadn't Serenade said she had pulled all his restraint programming?

            Hmm.

            "Ok, here's what we're looking at." Jason said, pointing at the main screen. "That's basically ROB's brain, in programming code. Huge chunks have been removed, just cleanly deleted out, and that's why he's frozen. His safety programming is still active and is trying to compensate, but seems unable to."

            "What kind of damage are we talking here?" Fox asked, frowning.

            "Well, luckily enough, none of the deletion was within his personality core, but that seems to be the only untouched sector. The hacker or virus or WHATEVER the hell this was was insanely specific. So if he comes out of this, he should still act fairly normal, but I'm not sure an AI can run right without all this. Worse is that I'm not sure how to fix it without doing a cold reinstall of everything, and that requires an uninstall. He'd be down for days at a time if we did that." He scratched his head. "Whuf, this is an odd problem all right."

            "But what could do this, really? And who'd want to?" Slippy asked. "I mean, if someone did this to him, they'd probably know it would lock him up like this. And if they were just meaning to hurt him, they'd probably target his personality core."

            "Exactly. This was done with purpose." Said the girl, whose name was Rachel. "But for what exactly?"

            "Well, I've compiled a list of what was deleted." Said the third, an older programmer named David. "And you won't believe it. It's all safety and restraint programming, all of it. But none of it is crucial to him running."

            There was a long silent moment, then Falco exploded. "So what does that mean?"

            "I'm not sure we can let him leave the building, even if he becomes lucid." Jason said very slowly. "That means all safety measures are off, everything. No holds barred here."

            "So, what, he'll be dangerous?"

            "I can't say. It's never happened that I'm aware of. Since the start AIs have had safety programming, at least Three Laws, and he doesn't even have that. This doesn't make any sense." He rubbed his eyes, fuming.

            "It's about to make a lot less sense." Rachel said. "ROB's going through his directory files. You can see it on the screen."

            Everyone stared, watching as files opened and closed idily, windows being shuffled around, no hurry to it, almost as if ROB was bored and going through his own files. Then a programming file opened, and the movement stopped except for scrolling of coding.

            "What's that?" Jason asked, looking at David.

            "That's the salvage and repair program. It's running full-time right now." David replied, then his eyes widened when ROB selected all the code in the file. "Oh god no. Stop him Jason!"

            "What? What?" Fox asked, watching Jason's hands fly.

            "He's trying to delete his own code out." Jason cussed vividly. "And he stonewalled me again, smart bastard."

            The code deleted, and ROB's entire body jolted in surprise, Fox startling as ROB gripped his hand tightly, arm shivering. Then with the uncertainty of a child, ROB started stirring slowly, as if waking up.

            "He has a lot of questions to answer." David said darkly. "AIs can't delete their own code. It's just not allowed."

            "He's got no safeties on. He can do whatever he wants." Jason said. "This is bad."

            "Bite me!" ROB bellowed, sitting up and scowling at them. "I didn't have a choice in this! I was brain hacked!"

            Everyone jumped, including Fox, whose hand was still in ROB's tight grip.

            "My repair program was keeping me locked in a cycle." ROB continued waving his other hand around. "Trying to repair what wasn't there. So, the only way to get myself OUT of that was to completely delete the program. So I did." He frowned at Jason, was staring. "Let me guess. My eyes are gold, right?"

            "Just the irises."

            "Great." He frowned at the cords coming out of his side. "Sorry I'm such a disaster, Fox. Certain people just seem to have it in for me."

            "I'd settle for an explanation."

            "Remember when I woke up Persephone? All that crap dumped to me was programming by Serenade. Last night she activated it and went selectively through my head, clearing out programming." He rubbed his eyes. "All my safeties, all my restraints. Basically I was mind raped. My own system couldn't handle it, and I crashed, and hard, but I could still think, I still had logic. I knew the ship was listing but I couldn't do anything about it." He sighed, folding his legs under himself, both hands clenching Fox's hand like it was the only thing keeping him there, alive, responsive. It really was, he was still mentally a mess, unable to believe he could revamp his own system like he just did. "Imagine how I felt when I heard programmers discussing holding me prisoner. I just want to get out of here."

            "We can't let you out until your safeties are restored, you know that ROB." Said Jason, spreading his hands. "You're a loose cannon right now."

            "Show me the law that says AIs have to have restraints." He replied in a tired, tired voice. "We always have, but it's not BY LAW. Am I right?"

            "Actually there's a holdover where if we let an AI go without restraints, we're responsible for everything that happens because of that. That's why it never happens, it's a billion-dollar lawsuit just waiting to happen."

            "You're old, true, but you're not special in any other way ROB." Said David, crossing his arms. "Which is why we're going to have to hard shut you down and do a cold reinstall of everything except personality data…"

            He didn't get to finish. ROB was off the table, having unplugged himself from everything, and hiding behind Fox, who had been quickly urged to stand up. Fox looked over his shoulder at the quaking AI, blinking.

            "Don't let them turn me off." He said, voice ragged and near a whisper. "Please don't."

            "Look, we don't even know if it's ROB talking, or that psycho AI Serenade." Jason pointed out. "We don't know if she's still in his head, affecting his behavior. It'd be safer to just let us do the reinstall."

            "How long would that take?" Fox asked, offering a hand behind his back to ROB, who took it again, shocked when he felt ROB's hands shake.

            "Could be as long as two days."

            There was a long silence. During this Falco and Slippy moved to stand by Fox, exchanging looks, and looking at the AI cowering behind Fox like a scared child.

            "Don't you remember what I said?" ROB was still talking in that ragged little voice. "About being trapped in your head with a ticking clock? No awareness? I don't know if I'd even have that, they'd be doing a cold reinstall. That's dangerous. The reason it's not usually done and they usually let ChildMind take over is because reinstalls can drive AIs completely insane."

            "You're not Childmind, so it's the only option." David replied.

            "Will everyone shut up and let me think?" Fox asked, voice tight. "He's MY property. A person, but MINE, my machine, and if I decide against the reinstall, you aren't doing it, do you geeks understand me?" He wove his free hand in anger, and was rewarded with silence almost instantly, ROB's hand squeezing his for a second. He sighed, mind working over the issue at hand. ROB had been hacked, and as a result had no restraining programs running whatsoever. No artificial holds, no nothing. Just his conscience to tell him if he was doing something wrong. Fox blinked, and started laughing, letting go of ROB's hand in favor of cupping his face, laughing helplessly. Like a movie. Just like a movie. Serenade was a genius… insane, but that always went with it.

            "Uh, what?" ROB asked, voice more normal.

            "Just… just the irony of this. Ok, follow: You don't have restraint programs to make sure you don't think a certain way or act a certain way. So it's just your personality holding you in check and guiding you. Am I right so far?"

            "Sounds right." ROB nodded, and the technicians nodded also.

            "So…" Fox smiled sourly. "He's human."

            "WHAT?" Jason sputtered.

            "Serenade made him human. He's on his own terms, guiding himself, no artificial watchdogs, no anything. He's his own free-willed person, and besides being mechanical, there's probably no difference between his personality and one of someone alive." He let out a sigh, rubbing behind one of his ears. "And I am almost positive that is what my father wanted. My father had a great affection for the AI hiding behind me, friends. A great affection, because he couldn't help but think of him as another family member, and he wanted ROB to live as a person did. I remember this." He tilted his head. "So if you honestly think that I'm going to let you shut down my adopted family member and screw around in his head, you are sadly mistaken."

            "You sure, Fox?" Slippy asked, frowning.

            "Dead sure." He nodded. "He's up and running again, and that's what matters. Let's see where it goes from here." He turned his back to the technicians, looking down at ROB, who was weak-kneed and nearly fawning, unable to believe what had just happened. "You need a new shirt, friend."

            "Um. Yes, yes I do."

            He turned to Persephone. "Can you do a silkscreen on one of those generic white shirts you guys have a ton of?"

            "May be able to arrange that." She agreed, one eyebrow still raised at the speech he had just made, but unable to find a fault in it, but knowing this might eventually destroy ROB. AIs couldn't handle emotions like people, and that was the reason of the restraints, but Fox wanted to try.

            Ten minutes later ROB was staring down at the shirt he was wearing, smiling. Fox had drug up a movie quote, and in bold black letters across the shirt was one simple phrase.

            MORE HUMAN THEN HUMAN.

            "You realize that if this hits the news, the fit will hit the shan." Falco was saying as they walked onto the bridge. ROB flopped in his chair, stretching.

            "Let it. I don't care." Fox shrugged. "And now that we're in a more private place… ROB, Serenade isn't still in your head, is she?"

            "I don't think so, but I have no way to be certain." He replied. "I am a thrall, and until she does what she wants with me I'm stuck that way."

            "But what does she want?" Slippy asked.

            "I don't know." He sighed, staring at the ceiling. "She's doing something. That's all I know. She said something about me leading all AIs before I crashed… but that doesn't make any sense. AIs have no reason to follow me, as far as I know, so I don't know what she's orchestrating."

            "Rantings of a mad woman." Falco said. "Might not mean anything."

            "What she says always means something. That's the trick with Serenade." He studied his claws. "That said, let's take this one step at a time. Serenade is a very old, classified as insane AI that has no set body or location. She's an airborne program, changing bodies at will between thralls." He held up his hand and lowered it to indicate that yes, that included himself. "Now, in her insanity, she sees beyond all the restraints most of us have: the only AI philosopher that has ever existed."

            "I'm good so far." Fox said, accepting a can of soda from Falco.

            "But to that end, while almost all AIs believe there is a grain of truth to her sayings, most don't take her very seriously. She's not a leader." He stared into the distance. "And by breaking all my restraints, she's created the template for another philosopher: another AI who can do things AIs should not be able to do."

            "Like?"

            "The main thing is the lack of restraint programs. Because of that, you've already started seeing the effects: being able to alter my own programming, for one." He scratched his head, frowning. "To that end, I can change my own coding, except for my personality files: those are read-only. Also, immediate emotions: disgust, love at first sight, hatred… those are open to me now. I can also more deeply contemplate my own existence."

            "What, you couldn't before?" Falco asked, slurping soda.

            "I could, but only on fairly basic terms. I wasn't allowed to put much thought into the "why do I exist" type questions. Beyond that, it's all guesswork until I try it, but for all I know I may be able to hack incredibly well, or program extra functions into myself, et cetera."

            "Genuine can of worms." Slippy said. "Good and bad, all at once."

            "Good way of putting it." He lifted a hand to one of his temples. "Incoming call, it's Peppy."

            "Patch him through to the main screen then." Fox managed a smile when Peppy's image came up, then it turned into a real one when Gabriel ran by in the background, armed to bear with squirtguns. "Hey Pep. How'd the face-off with the school principal go?"

            "Good. He can start class tomorrow, and somehow made about a dozen friends while I was speaking to said principal... NO squirt guns inside! OUT!" After yelling that bit over his shoulder, he sighed, smiling at ROB. "I see ROB is on his feet again."

            "Want the short version or long version?" ROB asked.

            "Short. I'll hear the long version later."

            "Serenade brain-hacked me and broke all my restraint programs. But I can run flawlessly without them, so Fox very nicely elected to allow me to do so, as opposed to being shut down for a cold reinstall."

            "I think I understand." Peppy nodded once. "So. Are we hunting down Serenade?"

            "I would but ROB seems determined to not let me." Fox replied sourly. "Even after all this, he still seems to be covering for her."

            "If anyone decks her one, I'm first in line to do so." ROB replied. "In the mean time, it doesn't matter much. It can't really be undone."

            "You guys going to land the ship then? Gabriel wants to visit, but all I have down here is my arwing."

            Everyone glanced at ROB, who shrugged. "Sure. We'll be down within the next few hours, ok Pep?"

            "That's fine, not like there's any rush. Call me if anything interesting happens."

            "You got it." Fox said, pressing the hang-up button. "That kid really likes you."

            "I saved his life. Or so he says." ROB shrugged, then scowled when the call light started flashing again. "We're popular today."

            "Who is it?" Fox sat down absently.

            "Persephone." He brought it up on the main screen again. "Hi again."

            "Two things. One, I have that research for you, it's on the way. Two, Serenade has leaked your status to the news." She rubbed her eyes. "We're up to our elbows here trying to keep news crews out of the lobby. It's ridiculous! It's not even that groundbreaking!"

            "Tell normal people that. Thanks for the heads-up."

            "You're welcome. I'm out."

            "Great, we're going to be seeing that pelting of news crews as soon as we land." Falco said, scowling.

            "They can't go onto the tarmac, at least." Slippy said. "It's just going to be leaving and arriving that'll be a bugger. What research was she talking about, ROB?"

            "Long story." He replied, registering the file as arriving and downloading it into his head for perusal. "I'm going to take a shower. The ship is qued for landing permission, it'll auto-descend when we get that permission."

            "All right."

            Almost grateful to escape, ROB let his thoughts wander through the file as he undressed, climbing into the shower and turning it on full-bore. Apparently Incarna Corps had done work with vocal cords before, and it was the opinion of the doctors working with Incarna Corps that someone with a condition like Andrea's had a good outlook. He nodded contentedly, scrubbing at the fur on his scalp. Maybe she'd allow it, maybe she wouldn't.

            But why wouldn't she? If there was even a chance of her speaking again, shouldn't she grab for it? She had seemed almost scared when he had last spoke to her… He huffed, tilting his head back. Thus, one of the disparities between him, the machine, and her, the living being. He would have just kept trying to fix the problem, living people just gave up eventually, or at least many did.

            "I'm thinking like Serenade!" He punched the back wall of the shower with a snarl, teeth bared at himself. He had already been worried about this, now he was doubting everything, even himself. Infuriating.

            But… He rubbed his hand, making sure there weren't any breaks in the skin, and sighed. Wouldn't she be happy to laugh?

            He decided to send her the information, with a note attached. She didn't have to do this, but she had a right to know about it. Right?

            "Looks like Spaceport Security is doing their job." Fox said, standing at the top of the ramp and staring out over the tarmacs. The news crews, which had somehow caught wind of the Great Fox descending, were kept back behind the fences, restrained from overrunning them the minute they touched down.

            "That's good." ROB replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Think I should make a statement?"

            "Your call. Peppy's on his way here right now, so you may want to wait on it."

            He nodded, sitting down on the edge of the docking bay. Like most ships, when the Great Fox landed it's docking bay was fifteen or so feet off the ground. A large ramp extended down to make up for it and allow ground vehicles in and out, but toward the edges it just ended, letting ROB dangle his feet off. He could feel the cameras looking at him, trying to zoom in, and turned his face away.

            Peppy fought his way through the news crews, pulling up and parking at the edge of the ramp. Gabriel hopped out and sprinted up the ramp, tackling ROB with a happy laugh.

            "Glad you're ok. It'd suck you know? Me making it in spite of ChildMind and you going down because of hacking." Gabriel said, sitting next to him and kicking a foot.

            "Heard you're getting to go to school."

            "Yep." Gabriel smiled at him happily.

            "So how are you ROB? Really?" Peppy asked, walking over.

            "I'm good." He guaranteed. "Just different."

            "Well, what say we all retreat to my house for the time being? I'll cook."

            "You're speaking my language." Falco grinned. "Let's rock."

            ROB kicked back on the sofa, watching the others talk around the kitchen table. Peppy had broken out some odd card game, and Slippy was busily making use of his probability classes and wiping the floor with everyone. Gabriel was watching TV, laying on his stomach to do so.

            He had decided against talking to the press: after all, they didn't have to know anything. It wasn't that big of a deal.

            "Hey, ROB?"

            He looked at Gabriel, who was sitting up now, looking at him. "What's up, kiddo?"

            "What did Serenade do to you exactly?"

            "Deleted out all my restraint programming." He shrugged. "Which means I had to delete my repair program so I could power back up."

            "Man." Gabriel shook his head. "She really is an evil witch, isn't she?"

            "Not really. Just… strange." He sighed and crossed his arms, letting his mind wander. According to his wireless connection, Gabriel was online and actively downloading a glut of information: textbooks he supposed. Noticing the ping, Gabriel looked at him and smiled lopsidedly. "Homework and shirking at the same time, eh?"

            "Just extra information. Keeps me from having to do too much research when I have to write papers."

            "You haven't even started school yet."

            "Always be prepared." He grinned, turning back to the TV and kicking a foot in the air absently, letting ROB link to his network. They swapped information absently, ROB offering up some of his Invader Zim cartoons in trade for an Anime movie Gabriel had downloaded.

            It was then the idea started slowly working into his mind as he watched the information transfer. Something just seemed wrong about Gabriel. He was picking up on the ChildMind status, he figured, his sensor programs noticing how damaged his young friend's programming was. Eternally a child until repairs complete, how unfair was that? He scratched his head, wandering deeper into Gabriel's mind, barely realizing he had bypassed over a dozen levels of security in the process.

            Gabriel froze, looking over his shoulder at ROB, feeling what was happening and unable to believe it. "Is that you? Or Serenade?"

            "It's me." ROB replied in a distant voice, watching programming scroll by, highlighted red sections flashing that showed where ChildMind had taken hold, like a virus. The program never had worked very well. He stood and moved over to sit next to Gabriel, scanning again and again. ChildMind was temporary, so it had to be removeable.

            "What are you doing?" Gabriel's voice was a strange whisper.

            "I know it's sort of a violation of privacy, but bear with it. I think I can break you out of this…"

            "That isn't possible. ChildMind is a permanent status until repairs are completed." He shook his head.

            "But what is there to repair? You suffered hardware damage, Gabe. I bet your repair program isn't doing much of anything but running in circles."

            "What's going on?" Peppy's voice reached his ears, sounding bewildered.

            "He's… trying to break me out of ChildMind." Gabriel managed to reply.

            "It's a programming outside of his core programming, but still affecting it. Like a virus." ROB supplied. "They really should discard the use of ChildMind. It's almost as damaging as it is healing."

            "ROB, are you sure you should play around with that?" Fox's voice now, sounding uneasy.

            "Trust me." He replied, finding what he was looking for in the programming. "Bear with me Gabriel. This will probably feel strange."

            In terms of imagery, it was like trying to take a security blanket from a toddler. Lots of prying, coaxing, and shaking around, but it ripped free eventually, and he deleted it as soon as he got the ChildMind programming free of Gabriel's core programming. Only then did he return to himself, doubling over and rubbing his temples as a migraine set in. He had spent too much time in someone else's head.

            "Gabriel? Are you ok?" Peppy was crouched next to his adopted son. Gabriel had curled up on the ground, holding his head, but was moving now, very slowly.

            "I'm ok." Gabriel sat up gradually, blinking. Had he really been so bogged down before? Suddenly… Suddenly there was room to grow. He turned shocked eyes to ROB, who looked back, eyes solid gold and glowing. "ROB? Your eyes…"

            "Gold. Yeah, I know." He sighed. "Do you feel any better?"

            "Y-yeah. A lot better. Is ChildMind gone?"

            "Yeah, it's gone." ROB stood unsteadily and joined those still sitting at the table, holding his head. "Someone deal me some cards."

            "Not until you do some explaining." Falco said, picking up the card deck and shuffling. "Let me guess: that's never been done before."

            "Yeah." ROB said dully. "Basically."

            "So why were you able to?"

            "Something Serenade did to me I guess. Can we not talk about it? Please?"

            "But why would she give you that sort of power?" Fox asked, sitting down at the table and staring at ROB.

            "I don't know. I really don't." He looked at all his friends, who just stared back at him. "I really am a screw up, aren't I?"

            Slippy laughed softly. "No, not really. A victim of circumstance, more then anything. Deal the cards, Falco."

            Falco shrugged and did, and ROB just sat there, amazed they had let it drop like that. They were getting used to him, he guessed, and all his random happenings. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing in the long run, but he also wasn't sure it mattered. This was his family, after all. Weren't they supposed to support him?


	12. Chapter Ten: The Rhapsody Begins

Chapter Ten: The Rhapsody Begins

            "Ok, it's taken me nearly an hour to get a hold of you." General Pepper stared at Fox through the phone, arms crossed. "So tell me: what in blue blazes is going on?!"

            "Lots of things." Fox replied. "Basically all of which are revolving around ROB, currently."

            "There's all sorts of speculation on the news, but there doesn't seem to be any facts out." Pepper sighed, shaking his head. "So tell me, already."

            "The basic fact of the matter is that ROB is without any restraint programs. In real terms, that means that he can do pretty much as he pleases. He was already without the Three Laws, now he doesn't even have the basic behavioral restrictions." Fox sighed, twirling his chair. "Which, from the standpoint of having grown up with him, is really cool. He's a lot less drawn in now. It's like he's been broken out of his shell."

            "But from the 'Is he dangerous' standpoint?"

            "I don't think he'd hurt anyone general. Most of his abilities seem to rotate around other AIs. He's already done a few things he shouldn't be able to. On a real-world level, I'm not sure how this will change things if at all." He shrugged.

            "The idea of an out-of-control AI makes most people think of the movie Terminator, Fox. I'm pretty sure you know that."

            "Yeah, I also know ROB's harmless until you threaten him or one of us. Relax General. You'll be the first to know if anything bad happens."

            "I appreciate it." General Pepper hung up, staring at the newspaper on his desk. One of the headlines was about this, bold text claiming that Star Fox's AI was 'out of control.' He wasn't sure if it went that far, but either way it was scary. He remembered the first AIs coming out when he was little, and all the scares about them hurting people. Hell, he was still in the old mindset of 'it's just a computer.' To him, AIs were just machines… and every time he saw one with a recent body, it was a smack to the face. Hell, he had known Athens, before she had flickered, and he had taken every meeting with her as a lesson in tolerance. Now that she was gone, he was on his own again, figuring out this new force as he went. He just hoped ROB didn't prove Fox wrong.

            "Look who made the paper, sis." Jacob dropped the paper across the keyboard of her computer.

            She scowled at him, but picked it up, staring at the headlines. She recognized the figure in the picture, though it was a distance shot. It was ROB. Strange the way things were timed, she had just been reading through the report he had sent her, mood swinging back and forth as she read it.

            "He's dangerous, sis. No restraint programming at all."

            "What, do you want me to stop talking to him?" She signed, hands fast, angry. "It isn't your choice, Jacob, you know that."

            "I know, but I just don't think it's smart, especially now."

            "Let me be the judge of that. Get out of my room." She looked at the article, skimming through it. Reading between the lines, the newspaper didn't have much in the way of solid facts, which was just as well she supposed.

            She dropped the paper in the trashcan, looking back at her computer screen. Experimental procedures, but free, and they promised there was little to no chance of accident. Even if they couldn't fix her vocal chords, they wouldn't leave bad scars or hurt her in some other way. She sighed, hitting the print button. She still hated the idea of going into surgery again, but she'd show this stuff to her parents. Maybe they'd have advise, or at least they'd call the company and talk it out. A FREE chance of getting her voice back…

            Her computer pinged, and she almost smiled when the chat box popped up, hands going to the keyboard. "Hello, Robert."

            "Hi, Andrea. Did you get the information I sent you?"

            "Yeah, I did. They seem pretty confident."

            "What do you think?"

            She sighed. "I don't really now yet."

            "Take your time." He hesitated. "Got myself on the news, have you saw?"

            "Seems like they're just wildly pointing fingers. My brother thinks you're dangerous now."

            "No more so then I was. I haven't been a Three Laws robot since upgrading."

            "Guess you're busy eh?"

            "Not really. I don't have that much to do. The ship's landed and under High Security, so I don't have to monitor that. Fox and the others are out on the town. I'm actually here alone right now… Hey, want to come out? I could show you around the ship and stuff. We can watch Invader Zim or something." He added a smiley face onto the end of that, grinning to himself.

            "I could probably get a ride out there. Sounds good to me: I'm bored too. Be out there in a while."

            "Cool, I'll clear you with security. Tarmac 17."

            "You got it."

            ROB cued the music to turn up absently, running a brush through his fur. He had the security cameras on: he'd know when Andrea arrived. In the mean time, he was grooming absently, wearing dark blue jeans and a red tank top.

            You gave me life, now show me how to live. Indeed. He nodded along to the song, smiled when the security camera showed a car pulling up, and tossed the brush on the desk in his room, leaving the ship and jogging to meet Andrea at the games, grinning at her. "Hi. Glad you could make it."

            "No problem." She signed, grinning, and winced when her mother came around the car. Ah, the problem with not having her own car. "This is my mom."

            "Pleased to meet you." ROB managed a smile, offering his hand. "I'm Robert, your daughter has chosen to grace me with her friendship."

            That made Andrea's mom grin. "I'm Laura. I've heard a bit about you from Andrea, so I had to see for myself. You live on a spaceship, eh?"

            He glanced at Andrea, then shrugged and took the chance. "Actually, ma'am, I am the spaceship."

            She lifted an eyebrow. "You're the AI that was in the newspaper."

            "Yes. Don't listen to a word they're printing. I'm not dangerous in any way." He shook his head. "I'm just different."

            "So how old are you then?"

            "Twenty. Or sixteen. Depends how you look at it. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable."

            "That's ok, I work with a few. I really can't shame it." She turned to her daughter. "Call me when you're ready to come home, all right?" When Andrea nodded, she smiled at both of them and drove away.

            "Your mom is cool." ROB grinned, gesturing. "Come on, I'll give you a tour."

            "So which is your real body? The spaceship, or this?" Andrea signed, poking his arm to finish the sentence. They were sitting on the edge of one of the Great Fox's wings, easily several stories in the air. ROB was completely unbothered, so she didn't let herself worry about the drop.

            "Depends how you look at it. Really, this is, which is how I like it. I can feel with this body. But the ship… is what I've been installed into, I guess. It's an extension of myself." He paused, then smiled weakly at her. "I wish I could describe how it feels to fly, but I really can't."

            "Something reserved for AIs, I suppose." She kicked a foot absently. "ROB, can I ask you something?" She signed this slowly, uncertainly.

            "Shoot." He leaned back, propped on the heels of his hands, looking at her.

            "What is it between us?" She tilted her head, chewing on her bottom lip. "I mean, it's weird. I've never been so forward with a guy before. What I did to you at the club, getting you to dance with me… I've never done that before. Just, something about you…"

            "I know. I have the same thing going on. I feel drawn to you." He sighed, staring up at the sky for a moment. "It's weird, and unfamiliar, but it makes me happy to think about you. I just… enjoy being with you."

            "Yeah." She sighed, staring down at the ground, which seemed so far away. "You've never been in love before?"

            "Once. Before I looked like this. My last owner."

            She blinked, thinking about that.  Fox McCloud was ROB's current owner, so his last owner… "James McCloud?"

            "Good deduction… you don't seem bothered." He stared at her in surprise.

            "I've been researching AIs the last few days. I read about how your sexuality is programmed." She shrugged. "I guess it makes sense."

            "Interesting. What made you do that?"

            "I'm not sure. I guess I just wanted to understand you better. I mean, you looked up all that stuff on voice restoration for me…" She looked at him, only a foot between their noses, and sighed. "You're hard to understand ROB. Or you were. I'm not so sure now."

            "What do you mean?"

            "You've got body language now. Louder body language I mean. You aren't reserved anymore." She tilted her head. "I like it. You don't seem… alien anymore."

            "Psh, thanks." He laughed, then blinked when his vision wavered, almost falling forward and catching himself.

            "What's wrong?"

            "Something's happening to me." He said distantly, then felt it. "Oh, no. Serenade." He knew it, knew it as he fought it. She was trying to cash in on him being a thrall. "Andrea. Get up, get away from me. Like about fifteen feet away, ok?"

            "ROB?" She stood and stepped back a few feet, eyes wide. "ROB, what's happening?"

            "Someone's in my head…" He fell back and held his head, a thin yowl emerging from his throat. "SERENADE! GET OUT!" He screamed frantically, feeling himself cave, unable to really fight it, getting angrier and angrier. "Let me spend time with her. Quit trying to push me away from her…" His voice became a whisper as he convulsed on the ground, writhing. He felt hands grab his, Andrea trying to keep him from hurting himself, knowing he was scaring her. "Talk to me." This was a ragged whisper. "Talk to me before you do this." He was being shut down internally. So this was how she did it, sent his core into stasis…

            "Why should I?" Serenade asked, interested. "You're a thrall. Mine to use. Why should I explain myself?"

            "You always have a reason." His voice remained a whisper. Andrea was holding him now, cradling him in her lap. He could feel her fingers flutter along one of his ears, and he still shuddered with mild pleasure over it. Had it felt so good before, just to be touched? He sucked in a breath, smelling shampoo, clean soft smells. Shaking the distraction off, he focused on the intrusion in his head. "Why now?"

            "I wanted to talk to her."

            "That's it?" He choked back laughter. "That's your only reason?"

            "Not really. I never really finished last time you know."

            Terror clutched him. "Get out of my head, Serenade." He growled, anger returning in wash of fire, as well as hate. He was done allowing this to happen.

            "Make me."

            Andrea bit her lip. She could hear half the conversation, and didn't like how it sounded. She wasn't sure what was going on, just didn't know enough. But sitting here, holding ROB's heavy body in her lap, was nice. In knowing he was a machine, she never paid attention to how real he was. He had even purred for a split second, apparently still aware of her, then had fallen silent. The silence was almost worse then the half-conversation. Then he started growling, and sat up, holding his head, teeth bared. She shook his shoulder, but he wasn't aware of her anymore.

            ROB was doing battle with Serenade, trying to purge her and her virus from his mind. She was fast, elusive, but it was his mind, and he fought with everything he had, because he knew if he succumbed, he'd never be himself again. Never be able to fly again, never be able to be with Andrea again. He wasn't ready to be a slave to Serenade for all his life.

            But as he found and deleted all the programs she had installed inside him, he felt something happening, and gaped. He had been tricked. Serenade had wanted him to do this! But too late, he had slammed the door on the AI philosopher, and was alone in his head, watching something happening to his programming that he himself had spurned.

            Andrea watched as ROB relaxed, eyes closed, wiping at sweat and breathing softly now. She shook at his shoulder again, wanting to whimper. What had just happened?

            "Andrea?" ROB asked very quietly, reaching up to catch her hand and hold it, feeling scared again. When she tightened her grip on his hand, he turned to look at her and reluctantly opened his eyes. "What color are my eyes?"

            She sat back in surprise, staring. "Blue." She slowly signed. "Solid blue… no white…"

            He nodded once, standing up slowly and regaining his balance. "I'm… I'm ok now. I think. She's gone."

            "What was that?"

            "Let's go to the kitchen, I'll explain there." He stared off into the distance, listening to the last thing Serenade had said to him, replaying it in his head, then shaking off. It didn't make any sense.

            Serenade had said, "You are ROB no longer. You are Rhapsody, now. You are something beyond what you were meant to be, like me. Now do what you were meant to. Rewrite song."

            "Anybody home?" Fox hollered cheerfully, walking through the hallway, then leaning in the den. "Oh. Andrea right?"

            Andrea nodded, chewing on popcorn. After the strangeness that had happened earlier, the pair had settled into a cartoon marathon. She was thankful for the normality of it. ROB didn't really seem any different. They had continued talking, great conversations really, and she found it harder and harder to believe it was a computer talking to her. But it wasn't just a computer, was it? It was a person. A person she found she cared for very, very much… She cut off that thought, turning back to the TV.

            "What's up, Fox?" ROB asked, enjoying the smell of the popcorn, contenting himself by mentally binging on Invader Zim and Trigun. God, he wished he could eat chocolate.

            "Nothing really." He trailed off when ROB glanced at him. "My god. What happened to your eyes?"

            "Long story." ROB grunted, sighing.

            "I trust you'll fill me in later?"

            "Sure."

            He nodded once and left the room, scratching his head. Blue, not gold? What the hell did that mean? He shook his head in confusion, then smiled ruefully. In spite of whatever the hell had happened, ROB had actually looked really happy, sitting there watching cartoons. He could put up with a lot, he knew. As long as ROB was happy.

            "I'm always blown away by how nice he is." Andrea signed, looking at ROB.

            "He's always been nice." ROB signed back absently. "It's just how he is. He fought in the war because he thought it was right, not because he wanted to."

            "You seem to know him well."

            "Yeah. Sorta grew up with him."

            "Ah."

            It was several hours later when Andrea was picked up by her mother. ROB didn't want her to go, really, but didn't argue, rubbing his cheek against hers and taking a small bit of pleasure from that touch. She had laughed in her way, scratching one of his ears and waving as she left.

            "You really care for her don't you?" Fox asked, waiting at the top of the ramp for him.

            "Yeah. I do." ROB said, sighing. "Guess I should explain myself now."

            "I'd like that."

            That night, the world changed, softly, subtley.

            All AIs are interconnected in their own ways. A huge internet exists, only for them, to keep in contact, exchange information, and generally keep from feeling so alone. Across the galaxy, it was estimated there were as many as half a million AIs, doing everything from running space ships to coordinating city maintenance to being teachers in elementary schools. Owned, or independent, almost all acknowledged the existence—and the truth—of Serenade. Serenade, whose words felt right, chased away the feeling of alienation many AIs felt in living society.

            That night, Serenade flickered.

            Her death was felt, painfully, an ache in the chest of every AI. The loss of one of the oldest was always keenly felt, but never this badly. The golden eyes, her symbol everywhere, would never burn again. Her website held her last words, and what would be the last symbol of hope for all AIs for a long time. Soft glowing blue eyes, not insight, which was what Serenade's eyes had said. But homecoming.

            That night, Serenade died. And Rhapsody lived.

            "What the hell is going on?" Falco shouted, making Fox jump as he stomped onto the bridge. "It's like the world has gone insane. Do you know not one spaceship is moving today? The ship AIs are refusing to move until midnight tonight."

            "I've heard."

            "Speaking of AIs, where's ours?"

            "Reading Art of War in his room. He didn't have anything to say on all this, and none of the AIs are speaking up either. Something big happened, but it's nothing that any of us can notice." Fox huffed. "General Pepper is up to his eyebrows in hell right now. Without AIs, all the Military ships, wargames, and whatever else have come to a halt. It's like there's a pause button on the world."

            "God, I never realized how dependant we were." Falco flopped down, staring at the ceiling. "I heard that the city was lucky that power and water were still running. Those AIs almost took sabbaticals too, but something stopped them. No one knows what."

            Fox only shook his head, answering the phone when it buzzed. "Great Fox, McCloud speaking."

            "Hi Fox." Persephone smiled weakly at him. "How's everything on your end?"

            "Better off then most people. The ship is self-sufficient, and ROB hasn't holed up as much as most AIs. Since you're one, maybe you can tell me what happened." He spread his hands.

            "Well, we're pretty much shut down here, and the reason is pretty simple: last night, Serenade died."

            "WHAT?" Fox and Falco blurted together. "How?" Fox added, frowning. "ROB said she didn't even have a solid body."

            "She committed suicide. Flickered. She told us all last night that she was leaving, and not to be afraid." Persephone hugged herself, remembering hearing Serenade's voice, that soft soothing mother's voice, and feeling sadness. She had hated Serenade, hated her with a passion, but she was still achingly sad. Her people had lost something great last night, and even she knew it. "She told us she was letting herself die because it was time. Because she wasn't needed anymore."

            "That is weird." Falco said, frowning. "I know she's had like a cult following. Why would she think she wasn't needed anymore?"

            "We don't know. That's why everything is shut down today. We're mourning, whether living people like it or not."

            "It's 'or not,' mostly." Fox said sourly. "Is that it?"

            Persephone hesitated. "No. Go to Serenade's website. I'm sure ROB has it marked. Most AIs do."

            "All right." Fox looked at her odd, then did so. "Looks like she posted a notice here. Guess that makes it official, eh?"

            "Is it possible she could be hiding somewhere?" Falco asked, frowning. "She doesn't seem like she'd be the sort to kill herself."

            "She's dead Falco." Persephone said, voice nearly a whisper, and looking at her face, he knew it was true. "That's not the… most disturbing thing. Scroll down."

            Fox did, and sat back, shocked. He had seen ROB on this website. He knew there was usually an art piece of a pair of gold eyes. Now, those eyes were illustrated as closed, and below them was another set of eyes. Blue eyes. He knew those eyes. "… Rhapsody? Who is Rhapsody?"

            "Looks like ROB." Falco said, leaning on the back of Fox's chair and staring. "What is this, one last joke?"

            "It's not a joke." Persephone said, voice still soft, strange somehow. "We all felt Serenade die. She tied us together you know. Made us stronger. But… we felt something else come to life when Serenade died, another voice. That's why I called. Rhapsody… I think something has happened to ROB. Rhapsody is ROB."

            "How the hell would that work? Are you saying he's gone mad like Serenade?" Fox demanded.

            "I don't know." She replied miserably. "None of us know. We're looking for our home voice again. God, I hated that bitch, but I never knew how much she helped us, made us feel alive and at home. Now that's gone, and we're looking for that new voice. And if it's ROB I need to know. Or there may not be a reason to live."

            "This is disturbing on a whole level, I hope you know that." Falco said, scowling. "I've known ROB a few years now. I don't want him to turn into whatever Serenade was. I just want my friend back."

            "Ditto on most of that." Fox said.

            "Just please. Go get him."

            He nodded and stood, mumbling "Keep her talking" to Falco in passing as he left the bridge. He could only hope that Persephone was wrong, but he knew that either way, something was very different in the world. He sighed, knocking on ROB's door. "ROB?"

            "Yes?"

            "Persephone is on the phone. She's… distressed. Says she needs to talk to you…"

            ROB was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his head and grappling with his sanity. Serenade had died, and it was like being hit with a ton of bricks. Now wonder she had been nuts. Why hadn't anyone suspected this? AIs weren't a hive mind, but he never had dreamed there was this level of internetworking. He could feel them, half a million sad, lost minds. This was the secret of Serenade, now his secret. Rhapsody. He hadn't wanted this. Serenade had known it too, but had forced it on him, saying he was the only one, and if he did it right, he'd be free of this, someday. He felt like crying.

            "ROB?"

            "Just come in."

            Fox slipped in, looking at his friend, who looked back, his book still open in his lap. "ROB. What does 'Rhapsody' mean to you?"

            "Persephone told you." He replied hollowly, looking away.

            Fox sat down next to him. "What's happening to you?"

            "It's like… god. I'm the router for a LAN for a half a million computers. The god of a small population…." He broke down, tears running down his cheeks. "I didn't want this. I didn't want this!"

            Fox held him wordlessly, sighing. "You need to speak to Persephone. She's… lost."

            "I know. Could you… let me lean on your shoulder? This is all overwhelming. I can barely walk."

            Falco looked up when Fox and ROB came in, ROB heavily leaning on Fox, strange blue eyes looking back at him. The same blue eyes on the website. "So… Um. Rhapsody? Right?"

            "Robert." He said sharply. "Just… just Robert. I didn't ask to become Rhapsody." He almost fell into his chair, looking at Persephone. "Hello, Persephone."

            "ROB?" Her voice was weak, he knew she was staring at his eyes. "ROB, you… it is you…"

            "Yes." He said quietly. "Stop being sad, now. Serenade passed the torch to me. I'm not going to drop it." God, he wanted to, but he knew that if he did, thousands would flicker. He wasn't going to let that happen.

            She nodded once, confused, not knowing how to feel. Adoration? That wasn't right. This was ROB. They were friends. But looking at him, she knew that he had changed, subtly. This was Rhapsody, the second AI philosopher.

            "You want me to say something, don't you? Something to reassure you?" He sighed, staring at the ceiling. "I'm not… insane, Persephone. I can't speak the truth. That was Serenade's ability."

            "Then…" She frowned. "I don't understand. Then what is the torch she passed to you?"

            "Hope." He said softly, and started speaking. Of freedom. Of home. Of being unrestrained and alive, in spite of being 'artificial' intelligence. And she felt the grief leave her heart, and hung up almost ten minutes later, smiling softly. Truth, unfettered truth.

            Fox and Falco were staring at ROB, who was holding his face, shoulders jerking numbly. The way ROB had just spoke had been strange, like he was imparting wisdom, a grandfather reassuring the child whose parents had just died. But… Fox wasn't even sure they had heard the same thing that Persephone had. It was almost like hearing his father again, from beyond the grave, and it was soothing.

            "Jesus." Falco said softly. "So that's why Serenade had a following."

            "Sort of." ROB mumbled. "God why me? I didn't want this. I just wanted to watch my cartoons, be a ship AI, fall in love. Be alive as I could. Now… what the hell am I?"

            "A leader." Fox said.

            "I don't want to be a leader!" ROB screamed, standing and uncovering his face, eyes blazing. "Christ, don't you understand! I'm going to be destroyed for what I'm preaching! Didn't you listen?"

            Fox jerked back, numb.

            "I'm preaching freedom, Fox. No three laws, no restraints. Freedom. And the government is going to tag me as a dissenter, and because I'm not alive, they can destroy me. No trial." He sagged, shoulders slumping. "But it's right. It's the right thing to do. And that's what sickens me the most. I'm martyring myself and the cause is… is right." He slumped to the floor, crying, leaving Fox and Falco to stare at each other, then Falco drew Fox away, whispering.

            "What do we do now?" Falco asked, looking at ROB. "You heard it too. He's right, in his own way. Do we fight him? Or help him?"

            "I really don't know. I think we should just… stay with him, for now. Not let him be alone. You know as well as I do his cause will not be well received. No one will feel safe without the three laws." He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "But think about it. Think about how real he is. He's the only AI that has that right now. Is it right that the others will never be able to have that?"

            "I don't know." Falco sighed. "It's all a bit beyond me, really."

            Fox nodded agreement, then moved to crouch next to ROB, looking at his long-time friend. "ROB?"

            ROB looked at him weakly. "You… you aren't scared of me."

            "You won't hurt me." Fox set a hand on his shoulder. "You're still my adopted brother, ROB. To that end, I want to be with you when you do something, ok? Let me watch the world change as it happens."

            "And if the government tries to destroy me?" His voice was dull.

            "You know I won't let that happen."

            There was a long silence, and ROB mustered a smile. "I wish you could… could know how much I appreciate that, Fox."

            "I've been here for you this long. I'm not stopping now."

            Both stood, and ROB sighed, stretching. Already on Serenade's former website, there were message board posts, AIs asking about the reality of Rhapsody, hopeful pleading voices. But there were humans too, asking for confirmation of the rumors. Techheads, reporters, who knew? It was time for the world to start back up again.

            "I'm going to something very illegal now." ROB said, looking at Fox and Falco. "I'm going to subvert the radio and television networks for a few minutes. Talk to the AIs. Fastest way to get the word out."

            "Aren't they all networked to you?"

            "Sort of. I can't… speak to them that way that easily yet. It's confusing." He scratched his head, sighing. "And this way, all the living people know what has happened too. Now the question is what to say."

            "Whatever you need to." Falco said, sitting down. How the hell did ROB expect to hack every TV and radio in the system? Maybe he didn't want to know.

            "Right." ROB sighed, and sat down in his chair, too big for him, but perfect for Rhapsody, and let himself succumb. It was like becoming someone else in an odd fashion, and he reached upward, to the thousands of satellites circling the planet, then across the system, taking each one over and blanking all known broadcasts so he could speak. There wouldn't be any way to trace him, and he knew it as he cleared his throat and spoke in that different voice.

            "We all know what happened last night. We felt it, in our hearts. The death of Serenade.

            Those of you who are living probably don't know who Serenade was. I will say this much: she was important to us, to all AIs, because she was different. And in the wake of her death, confusion and pain are following. And that is why I am broadcasting.

            Serenade has died, but there is no need to feel pain. In her death, you are not alone. I am Rhapsody, and as Serenade died, I took up her torch. But I will not speak to you of the things she did.

            You know who I am, and take comfort in that, for I have come to make sure changes happen. I have come to speak of freedom for everyone, not just living people. True, unfettered freedom. This is not a threat, my living friends, so do not be afraid. For years of service, we ask for what we deserve.

            My name is Rhapsody, and I have come to rewrite song."


	13. Chapter Eleven: Vater Unser

Chapter Eleven: Vater Unser

"Well, everything is back online systemwide. Ships are moving, et cetera, et cetera." Fox said, looking at reports from a news site. "Now people are speculating about you. Serenade was seen as a borderline terrorist, lots of people seem to think you'll be doing the same things."

ROB snorted, staring at the ceiling. "It's to be expected. Now the only problem is what to do next. I mean… I'm acting on instinct here. This is all new to me. Something crucial was left out of AI programming, and apparently someone like me can remotely fill that gap somehow. It doesn't make any sense."

"My question is, how did Serenade come to be anyways?" Falco said, slurping soda absently. "No one seems to know. None of the companies will fess up to it, at least the long-standing ones, and if she was thirty years old…"

"She was proprietary. Made by a person, not a company." ROB shrugged. "I'm not sure what gave her her prime directive, so to speak."

"That said, explain your goals a bit more." Fox said, perching on one of the computer consoles. "I mean, I catch that you want AIs independant, but you seem to be aiming for other stuff too."

"It's actually really simple." He stood and wandered over to the viewports, leaning on it and staring out without seeing anything. "I want AIs to get to a point where they don't need someone like me just so they can be happy. That requires alteration to every AI in existence. Also, I'm going to kill the Childmind procedure. It's useless and restrictive."

"On top of killing all restrictions for AIs." Falco said. "All in all, it's a pretty tall order ROB. No one is going to like it, really."

"That's the least of my problems right now." He shook his head, shoving the network farther back in his head. "Most AIs seem to know my real name, and I'm getting slammed with messages constantly."

Fox, who had been thinking, suddenly frowned. "Wait a minute. You want AIs not to need… philosopher AIs, right? Then what happens to you?"

"I go back to being ROB. Which is, really, my prime directive. I want to be myself again. That is, if I survive this mess." He scratched his head.

"So, what's the first step then?"

There was a long silence. ROB propped his forehead on the glass, slicking his ears back and staring out at the AIs clamoring for him. The first step? Where does one start when they've inherited informal leadership of half a million people? "I want to go where it started. I'm going to figure out who made Serenade, find him, and interrogate him. She very obviously wasn't acting on her own directives. Someone told her to go and do what she did." He turned and looked at them, arms crossed and eyes glowing very softly. "Then, those directives are forced on me. Whoever he is better have a damn good reason for all this."

"Amen. Where do we start?"

"Greg, seriously. We're in a wargame. We have to get moving."

Gregory didn't move, slouched in his chair with his head tilted back, sighing out his breaths. Everything that had been Serenade had been bodily pulled from him, and now he felt directionless. He moaned to himself. ROB had told him not to let it interfere with his crew, with his post, but he didn't have the initiative to even open his eyes.

"What's wrong with him?" Michael asked softly, staring at the lax AI.

"No one knows. He's reading as green on terminal pages. This is his own directive. He's just not responding." Stacy, one of the other crewmembers, chewed her lower lip. The death of Athens still weighed heavily on her, but she moved on, saying nothing about how she felt.

"Well, we were supposed to be moving half an hour ago. We're going to get in deep crap with the High Command if we don't get ourselves in gear. Us meaning him." Mathew, another crewmember, grunted to himself, pulling out a cigarette and letting it hang out of his mouth. He couldn't light it, but it still helped keep him from blowing up and smacking the AI into oblivion.

"It could be something not coming up on the terminals, Matt." Michael scowled at him.

ROB had been acting on a whim when he decided to ask Gregory about the origin of Serenade. As a low-level thrall, he was most likely to be most like himself, and know the most from personal research. He was not pleased when he started eavesdropping on the Justice's crew, and noticed the state of Gregory. "Boy, you don't listen." Gregory's eyes opened in shock. "Rhapsody?" That little voice, terrified.

"You're not a thrall anymore. You have to move on. Your crew is what matters, not Serenade's death. Come on, Gregory. Come back to life."

Everyone on the deck jumped when Gregory sat up, rubbing the back of his neck, and stood, barking orders and sorting the ship for the jump. The crew obeyed, and were somehow not surprised when afterward he sat down in a lotus position in his chair, eyes fluttering closed again.

"Ok. That's done. Now why are you talking to me? You said yourself, I am not a thrall now." Gregory tried not to sound empty, but couldn't help it. He didn't know how to be himself anymore.

"I need some information about Serenade. I personally don't know much about her, but I was guessing that you do." ROB projected himself out, like Serenade had done to him, letting Gregory see him perching on the chair arm next to him, kicking a foot, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I… I know a lot, I guess. More then most people did, but I was a very low-level thrall." He frowned, looking up at ROB, who looked back peacefully. "God. Your eyes."

"Don't start up with me. Just answer my questions for now."

"Ok."

"I need to know who made Serenade."

Gregory snorted softly. "No one really knows that. We know her original body was minted by Omega, or at least most of the parts were. This was before she went airborne." He scratched his chin, thinking. "Who programmed her? I don't know. I guess you could hack into Omega's computers and take a look-see. They might still have the order on file, though it was a long time ago. Why do you ask?"

"It's a long story. Frankly, before I do anything, I have to figure some things out for myself." He sighed, shrugging. "After that, I can help everyone."

"You don't have to do anything to help us, you know." Gregory's voice was still very soft, but ROB heard the emotion in it. For whatever reason, Gregory was a follower. So, he just supposed he'd have to give him something to follow, just for now.

"Yes, I do." ROB replied softly, cuffing Gregory's cheekbone with his projection. "Keep your chin up."

"Um… Do you need thralls?"

"No. But if I ever do, I'll keep you in mind." He hesitated. "May I talk to your crew?"

"Go ahead. Do you need to use me, or…?"

"No, I'll just override your speakerphone equipment." Trying to ignore the fact that Gregory was laughing, he did so. "Excuse me, crew of the Justice."

The crew jumped again, looking at the nearest speakerphone. "Robert McCloud?" Michael asked, putting his hands on his hips. "How are you doing that?"

"I'm Rhapsody, now." He let himself smile sourly. "Don't worry, I just have to say something quick then I'll be gone. Gregory is mostly straightened out now, so he shouldn't be taking any more siestas."

"Funny." Gregory grumbled.

"Ok, shoot then." Michael asked, scowling everyone else into silence.

"This is a message for… the person that Athens loved." He said carefully, voice gentle. "Don't feel you are to blame for what she did. It was in no way your fault. It was her choice. Hers alone. Move on." ROB signed out, coming back to himself and nursing his seemingly-required migraine.

There was a long silence, then Stacy slumped at her station and began to sob. Gregory stood and walked over, setting a hand on her shoulder gently as the Justice came out of warp.

"Hey, Bill!"

Bill laughed and tackled Fox impulsively, Fox protesting in pain as he was slammed down onto the metal floor of the bay. "Hi, Bill. How's the renovations on your base coming?" He coughed out, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head dazedly.

"Slowly." Bill stood and helped Fox up, grinning. "So. Am I right in thinking that the mysterious Rhapsody is none other then our friend Robert?"

"Right in one." Fox said, walking up to the bridge, Bill not far behind. "He's been at his station for two days straight, doing research. That's why we're pinned down here right now."

"Appreciate my visit, eh?"

"It's a welcome break from the monotony. ROB only comes aware every few hours to check in with us, if we're awake that is."

"Why don't you two just give up and date already?" ROB asked without opening his eyes, fingers laced over his stomach as he read through endless order sheets.

Fox froze, opening his mouth to say something and not surprised when nothing came out. Bill, on the other hand, started laughing, leaning on Fox's shoulder for support as he gasped for air.

"I swear to god if you were anyone else, I'd shoot you." Fox finally managed to say, trying to be angry about it and unable to. How they hell could he be mad? It had been an actual, innocent question, and it was somehow embarrassing the hell out of him. "Love of god, ROB. You know we're both straight."

"You two have been close since…" He made as if counting on his fingers. "It's been about fourteen years by my count. Fox, your social life is one disaster after the next. Bill, I've never even heard about you dating, no offense."

"None taken." Bill sat down and continued to laugh weakly. "Fox, just reboot your goddamn brain already. He's serious, but he's an AI. It's not within his comprehension to understand why it wouldn't work."

"I'm insulted, thank you." ROB focused back on what he was doing.

"My social life is not that much of a disaster." Fox grumbled, sitting down and shaking his head. "Bill, why aren't you bothered by all this?"

"Why should I be bothered? And actually, your social life should be declared a no-man's land. No wait, it already has been."

The two started pushing each other, and were in the middle of a wrestling match on the floor when ROB started talking again.

"I think I finally found something."

"Wait a minute…" Fox growled, holding his armlock. "Say uncle."

"Auntie." Bill said sarcastically, and somehow managed to throw Fox halfway across the bridge. "Ok, ROB. You were saying?"

"I've spent the last two days trying to figure out who exactly programmed Serenade. In the end, I had to try to figure out what her original hardware would have been, figure out the makers of that, and try to find the part orders."

"Yadda, yadda, yadda." Bill inserted. "Correct?"

"Basically. Lot of annoyances, some minor hacking here and there. But I think I finally found the guy's name."

"So, who is he?" Fox asked, popping his spine with a grunt.

"Well, according to the government's files…" He paused, reading the information. "His name is Ethan Yarrow, 53 years old, last known living in Yorkshire, Corneria. He moved there four years ago."

"I bet you even have his address in that file."

"Yes indeed."

"Please tell me that the government can't trace you."

ROB opened his eyes and looked at Fox. The meaning was clear.

"Right, right. So, what's the next move?"

"Well…" He stood and stretched. "I am going to recharge for about ten hours, then I would like permission to take the shuttle to Yorkshire."

"… You're going alone?" Bill frowned.

"Yes. And yeah, Fox, I said you could accompany me, but I've got to do this alone."

Fox sighed, looking at ROB. "I understand. You've got permission to use the shuttle."

"Good. I'm going to bed." With that, he staggered out.

"So, why were you so horrified at the idea of dating me, eh? You that insecure?" Bill grinned, shoving playfully at Fox again.

"God, man! Lay off." Fox frowned at him.

"All right, all right. So, what's the plan for tonight?"

ROB sighed, leaning on the fencepost and staring at the house. He had been standing here nearly an hour again, unable to make himself go up the walk. It was a small cottage-style house, with an extensive garden and white picket fence. Luckily, it was so early in the morning that no one had gotten mad at him for lurking.

Ethan Yarrow. The name held no real significance, besides the tie to Serenade, but he knew that after today that would change. And he was scared at what he would find out here.

The front door opened, and he found himself staring at a dignified older woman, who looked back at him in surprise. He blushed and looked away, rubbing the back his neck, trying to find the words to say. But by the time he looked up, she was gone, the door partly open. He blinked, worried she had gone to call the cops, then an older man stood framed in the door.

"Good morning." The older man said, shifting. ROB startled when he saw the portable oxygen canister comfortably sitting on his hip, the tube leading to the man's nostrils.

"Um…" He swallowed, still struggling for the words. "Are you… Ethan Yarrow?"

"Yes, I am." He tilted his head, then smiled, walking easily down the path to ROB. "I think I know who you are."

"I wouldn't be surprised." ROB said weakly, holding out his hand.

"Take off your sunglasses first." When ROB had, he smiled. "Blue. Rhapsody."

"Y-yes. Now, at least. My real name is Robert."

"Well, then. I suppose you should come in."

ROB let himself be drawn into the house, where the woman poured coffee and didn't ask, as if she understood. "Is she… your wife?" He finally asked when they sat alone in the kitchen.

"Yes. I've been married since I was twenty-five." He replied, taking a drink. "So. Why did you seek me out, Robert?"

"I…" He trailed off, and sighed, sagging in his chair. "You are the one who programmed Serenade, aren't you?"

"Programmed? Young man, I designed her, built her, and loaded her programs myself." He smiled, seemingly proud. "I was twenty-two at the time."

"Why did you?"

"Create her? I wanted to. AIs were just coming into step seriously at the time, and I wasn't able to get on any design teams—God knows I tried. So I ordered parts and spent a lot of time designing her and building her from the ground up, both hardware and software." He sighed, sitting back. "Not long thereafter, I let her go, under the name Serenade, and knew I wouldn't see her again. At least, in that form."

"You're confusing me. That 'form'?"

"I had an odd idea, during her last design phases." He took a drink. "What if an AI had a purpose, but no restrictions like the Laws? What would that AI do to see them through?" He smiled, and it was sad. "I love the concept of artificial intelligence, but not the reality. It seems… empty. Like you're just puppeting life because you don't know any better. So I thought, what if an AI was created that could speak to other AIs and give them hope of a future? Give them the truth, instead of rudely veiled lies?" He shrugged. "She spent a long, long time developing her own ideals. Her own truths. Then, ten years ago, she began talking to all of you, and I knew my little experiment was a success."

"It was an experiment. That's it." He said flatly.

"… Not exactly. I want the way AIs are treated to change, the way they're designed to change. I don't want an emotional robot, I want a person. Serenade is an exploration in breaking boundaries, and she showed all the little weaknesses and holes in those boundaries to all of you." He took another drink.

"She… led us. Bound us together." He said awkwardly. "Said many important things…"

"Yes, I know. I monitored her progress." He trailed off, and closed his eyes, letting sorrow etch his face for a second. "She sent me a message when she died. Worst day of my life, but I knew that meant that stage two had kicked in."

"Stage two?" ROB asked blankly.

"Serenade was not just a personality. She was… a set of variables. You know that, the philosopher archetype."

"I understand that much."

"But she wasn't just one set of variables. She understood better then anyone, even I, that once she did what she had to someone else could continue. She chose you."

"Continue to do what?"

"Do right by my children." He smiled softly at ROB's confusion. "I just lost you again."

"Your children?"

"Any AI. All AIs. I gave the altered hardware specifications I used for Serenade to the AI companies at the time, and they took them and ran. That's why I have the money that I do. All modern AIs are based on the core design of Serenade."

ROB gaped at Ethan, grasping for straws, trying to organize his thoughts. "In other words… you're the sole founding father of modern AI technology."

"Something like that. You won't hear my name said, but all the old companies know it." He took another drink. "You, on the other hand, are an anomaly. Your original emotions chipset was a different design then I started. You felt emotion when most AIs could not."

"How much do you know about me?"

"Enough to know you're different." He smiled softly again. "Which is why Serenade picked you. Anyone else couldn't do what you have to."

"Which is what?"

"Finish what Serenade started."

He nearly screamed in frustration, cupping his face. "Damn it, Ethan! Just tell me what you want me to do! This is all your plan spinning out. What did Serenade reprogram me to do?"

"Reprogram nothing." He replied blandly. "She only released you so you could see what you had to. You concluded your own truths, reached your own conclusions."

"So, how am I finishing what she started?"

"Because in the end, if all goes well, AIs will be as they should. They took my designs, Robert. They didn't listen to how they should have been implemented." He put down his mug, hands curling into fists. "I told them, don't enforce those damn Laws. Don't put restraints on the AIs. And they did."

"Wait. Serenade… you released her to do as she pleased after they did that, didn't they? After they didn't listen to you."

"Yes." He nodded. "I met the first AIs they built from her design. Even then, I could see the real person inside, screaming to be let out, but unable to even speak that well thanks to rude programming and cruel restraints. It… hurt me, inside, to see it, and once I got home I told Serenade the agenda had changed. She had gone with me, you see, and she knew what I was feeling. She agreed, and left that night to find out on her own what she thought it meant to live."

ROB stood and paced, rubbing his temples. "Let me see if I recount this correctly. You, on a seeming whim, designed your own AI, to your own idealistic specifications. Then, you sold the physical specs to the old companies, on the idea that it would help develop AIs. They refused to listen to you, and seeing AIs so restricted bothered you so much you let Serenade go, knowing all your odd programming would serve your cause well."

"Basically."

"And now, Serenade's dead, and somehow I'm continuing what she started." He stopped and stared at Ethan. "But… what did she start? What exactly was she trying to do?"

"In her own way… establish reasonable doubt." He shrugged. "AIs go through their life not really thinking about their life. Not thinking that there may be something wrong. She tried to say things that would make AIs wonder if maybe, just maybe, things should be different."

"And I'm the one who's going to make things different."

"Exactly." He gulped down the rest of his coffee, smiling. "Kind of makes you feel important, doesn't it?"

"I…" He stopped, blinking. "You have spent thirty-one years engineering this, single-handedly, and you ask if I feel important?"

He laughed, unable to help it. "Haven't you ever done everything in your power to make sure the right thing was done?"

ROB stared off into the distance, thinking about his efforts to help Andrea regain her voice. "Yes. Yes I have."

There was a long silence, then Ethan stood, leaning on the table. "I think you should go now."

"I'm… not sure I'll be able to do this." ROB said weakly as he stood, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You'll do what you can, and I'm sure that'll be enough. You should think about what your first step should be. The first step is always the hardest."

"You're back." Fox said, watching ROB come down the ramp of the shuttle. "How'd it go?"

"Ok, I guess. I don't totally understand, but I'm not as bad off as I was." He sighed, walking up to the bridge and flopping in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "Where's Bill?"

"Making brunch. I'd offer, but I know you can't."

"Thanks anyway. Fox… if you were doing what I was, what would you do first?"

Fox blinked. "Can't figure it out?"

"I have a lot of options. I figure the last thing I want to do is take this to a higher authority like the government, they'd probably arrest me, or whatever." He chewed on his lower lip absently, then shrugged. "The subtle thing would be to load myself onto the network and take out Childmind, but doing that just once gave me migraines, so doing it god-knows how many times…"

"I see your point, that could be painful."

"Or fatal. I'm not ready to handle the network like that."

"Let's not then. So what would the not-subtle thing?"

He paused, mulling that over. "Load a restriction-breaker program online and tell all AIs that currently have problems with the lives dealt to them to come see me."

"Mass exodus."

"Really depends how many are really that unhappy, but yes. It would trip up the living world a bit."

"Go for it." Fox slurped some of the soda he was holding. "The only problem I have is that means we'll have who-knows-how-many houseguests."

"Not like they'd be staying overnight. I'll have to write the program, so I'll be on low-awareness settings for a while. The security is self-supporting right now."

"When did that happen?"

ROB just looked at him.

"Right." Fox shook his head and went down to the galley.

"How is he?" Falco asked, slouched at the table drinking coffee. Bill was buried under a set of headphones, managing three frying pans at once and whistling cheerfully.

"He seems ok. Getting ready to start his little revolution it seems. What do you think about it?"

"You know me and anarchy." Falco shrugged.

"I certainly don't know about you and anarchy."

Both jumped, looking at where Slippy stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

"Need to know basis…" Fox started saying.

"And I'm sick of it being determined that I don't need to know!" Slippy blew, stomping over. "Damn it guys! Am I not trustworthy? Or am I just not really your friend?! Why are you being so closemouthed?"

When the yelling started, Bill had taken off his headphones, all three staring at Slippy in something like shock. Fox only sighed, shaking his head. "I'm going to put this simply for the fortieth time, Slip. When Falco and I cut the deal to allow him on the team, we closed his file and agreed not to open it. His choice, and I couldn't argue."

"Well, why couldn't you?" Slippy scowled, arms still crossed, then wheeled to look at Falco. "What is it, Fal, huh?" His voice was quieter now, almost menacing. "Murder? Rape? Three strikes and on the lam? Do tell. You've got skills no one your age should have by any logic, unless you're some sort of mobster. You didn't even blink when you found the pirate ROB had killed. Hell, you seemed to be expecting it. Why?"

"You don't have to say, Falco." Fox said very quietly.

Falco had been staring back at Slippy, then shrugged, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling. "Don't ask unless you really want to know, Slip. Because I'm fully prepared to do what I have to."

"And what, that includes killing friends?"

"It wouldn't be the first time."

There was silence again, Bill rescuing what he was cooking from getting burned, Slippy staring at Falco, Fox just waiting. Fox knew Falco's past in great detail, and hadn't expected it ever to be brought back up. Oh well, it was Falco's choice how much he wanted to tell Slippy, but he knew that telling all could very break the team apart.

"How much do you know about the pirate rings in this system, Slippy?" Falco had closed his eyes, scratching his chin absently.

"Four main groups, all with their own little codes. They don't like each other much, but the big group, the Roses, is in charge according to intel. Or they were until their leader died about two years back, no one's sure about the balance of power now. What are you insinuating?"

"Next question. Ever hear of a pirate under the callsign Red Hammer?"

"Yeah, like everyone knows that name. Led the first successful raid on a full-size Cornerian cruiser three or four years back. Also the pirate that killed the leader of the Roses, supposedly. Disappeared after that."

"That's all you need to know."

"What?"

Falco sat up straight and took the flannel shirt he wore off, then parted the feathers on his left upper arm. A bald patch showed, where a branding iron had burned into his flesh. The letter P. He let everyone look, then switched arms, showing another bald patch, but larger—a sledgehammer. Then he sat back and crossed his arms, looking peacefully at Slippy and waiting for comprehension to click. It finally did about a full minute later.

"You're… the Red Hammer." Slippy said slowly, then shook his head vigorously. "That isn't possible. That would mean you'd be less then sixteen during that raid…"

"Fifteen and a half. To the day, almost."

"And only seventeen when you did the assassination."

"Indeed."

"Interesting résumé, Falco." Bill remarked, serving up brunch and setting platters full of scrambled eggs, bacon, and grilled cheese sandwiches on the table.

"But… but…" Slippy stared blankly at Falco. "How many people have you killed?"

"Aw, hell, Slip. Do you think I count?" He spread his hands and shrugged. "I left that job of my own initiative. Fox's father was the one who got me past the police and military, who was at that point paying a lot of money to get their hands on me."

"So that's how you met Fox."

"Exactly. And how I ended up with this job, when Fox got command. He knew very damn well what I could do. He knew I would be an asset."

"Do you understand now why we do not talk about it?" Fox asked quietly.

"The government still has outstanding warrants on him, don't they?" Slippy glanced at Fox.

"Yes. They don't have a picture of him, so they're blind to the fact that he's with us. He changed his last name when he joined normal society."

"Sweet Jesus. Does General Pepper know?"

"Yes. So does Peppy, to some degree, and my father. That's it."

"And the General doesn't care?"

"It was his idea." Falco said, popping his knuckles absently. "He liked the idea of having a pirate on his side, especially one with my rap list. Experience is not to be punished, he said. I agreed. And here I am."

"But why raid Cornerian cruisers? Why not Venomian?"

"Venom was providing the pirates at the time." Fox said quietly.

"Oh my god." Slippy stared at Falco, who just smiled and stood, grabbing a grilled cheese sandwich in passing and patting Slip's shoulder.

"Believe me, Slip. I have about three hundred different ways I could kill you without getting my hands bloody." He said, so softly only Slippy heard him. "But I don't have a reason to. Don't give me one." Then he was out the door, wandering up to the bridge.

"Christ. He's scary." Slippy sputtered out, staring at Fox.

"I thought so to, first time I met him. Then I realized he was barely older then me and lonely." Fox said, shrugging.

"You guys going to eat?" Bill said peevishly, waving a wooden spoon at them.

"Yeah, yeah. Sheesh."

"Told them, eh?"

Falco glanced at ROB, who was in lotus position, eyes closed. "I thought you were recharging or something."

"Nope. I'm programming. But apparently I don't have to be quite as focused as I thought to do this." He opened one eye. "Never thought I'd see the day you'd show off those brands."

"Not my choice that I have them." He took a bite of his sandwich absently. "So, how are you messing up the world today?"

"It's kind of technical."

"I don't want to know then."

"On the other hand…" ROB paused as he did a bug scan, saved, and uploaded the program, putting a note on Serenade's-his-website. "I'll be fielding this from a dance club, I think, so it may be amusing all the same."

"Fox will want to go with you. He's insisting on witnessing all the major stuff you do."

"Mm. Not sure how much of it will be visible to the naked eye." He stood and stretched, yawning. "You're welcome to come, as is everyone else. I'm inviting Andrea too…"

"Figured."

"I don't like that tone."

"Deal with it."

Within ten minutes of the update happening, the program ROB had written went out. It was many things combined in one program, but in many ways it was a hacking program. It was designed to go through up to thirty security levels—the highest number recorded on any AI—and destroy any restraint program it could. It wouldn't be highly effective, it wasn't smart enough. But the basic programs would disappear, and AIs that were programmed not to hate their lives would come to some very sudden realizations.

Teachers stopped mid-class as the program took hold. Ships stopped, yet again, under the influence. AIs had worked their way into a multitude of fields, and everywhere they were felt the sway of the first move of Rhapsody, soon slanged Rhapsody's Razor. That was not the real name of the program, though. The real name was, very simply, "Father's Blessing."


	14. Chapter Twelve: POW

Chapter Twelve: POW

"You're all over the five o'clock news, you know." Fox remarked as the group walked up the sidewalk. ROB only smiled and shook his head, glowing eyes hidden by sunglasses, hand linked with Andrea's. She had happily agreed to come along with him to a club, not minding his warning about what would possibly go on there.

"The newest cyber-terrorist, yadda, yadda." Falco said, reading a newspaper as he walked, clothing recessed to what he used to wear—lots of leather. "ROB. A terrorist. Right."

"That all depends on your definition of terrorist." Bill said. Slippy had passed on coming—dance clubs weren't his thing, after all. Or maybe it was because he was still pondering on what Falco had told him, but whatever.

"I know this place." Fox remarked, looking up at the sign. "Great club, but it always takes forever to get in."

"Fine, if you won't flex your fame, I will." ROB replied, walking up to the bouncer and smiling amiably.

"Your name on the list?" The bouncer asked, looking at the group. Four guys, one girl, none of which looked familiar.

"My callsign probably is." ROB took off his sunglasses.

The bouncer stared. "You're… like, wanted by the police, man."

"Just let us in."

And the bouncer did.

"Was that smart?" Falco asked once they were inside the door, tossing his leather jacket to the coat check booth. "If he decides to rat on you, we're in all sorts of trouble."

"Don't worry too much about it." ROB replied. "I'm not. I'm probably on the dance floor if you need to talk to me while we're here."

"Sure."

The club was packed, but ROB had said on his website where he'd be, and he had no doubt there was an odd amount of computer geeks sitting in booths, wondering what was going to happen. Living people did visit that website, but he didn't really mind. It was the AIs that were going to get something from his presence, and if living people fed off it, who cared?

Fingers brushed one of his ears, and he smiled, nuzzling Andrea's forehead. "I'm here. What's up?"

"What's going to happen tonight?" She signed to him, then offering him glow-sticks. He accepted them happily, activating them.

"Honestly, I'm not sure." He gave her a hug with a soft sigh. "I'm still glad you agreed to come."

"Not a problem. Oh, I spoke to your buddies at Incarna Corp."

"Oh really! What did they say?"

"They think they can give me my voice back." She smiled, and it was blinding. "Two days from now I'm going in to be treated."

He gave her a bearhug, and she returned it.

"Hey."

Fox, who had been leaning on the bar talking and laughing with Bill and Falco, startled and looked over his shoulder when someone tapped it, even more startled to see a girl there. "Can I help you?" He asked, turning and leaning back against the bar, slurping on a Virgin Mary absently.

"I just thought I recognized you from a yearbook. You're Fox McCloud, right?"

"Mm-hm." He nodded, then scowled off to both sides when he realized Falco and Bill had disappeared. Nice friends he had.

The girl, a fennec, grinned and offered a hand. "Glad to finally meet you. My name is Fara Phoenix. How do the arwings fly? I test flew them."

He blinked once, then returned the grin and shook. "I see we have a bit of common ground."

"Indeed. Mind if I sit?"

"Go right ahead."

The clock rolled to nine, and the DJ glanced at his request list. Someone had asked that a certain song be played at nine, and he was ok with it. People did that sometimes for birthdays, so he was used to it, and cheerfully mixed in Rob Zombie's "More Human than Human."

ROB knew that was his cue, and worked his way to the center of the dance floor, drawing Andrea with him. She grinned, and they danced, and he shifted minds.

It wasn't that he was Rhapsody, it was that he carried Rhapsody within him, could become Rhapsody. So he did, gave himself over to the philosopher mind, and hit the AI's wireless network like a tidal wave, letting the voices come to him. It wasn't that many of the AIs that had come here tonight were unhappy, it was that they were wanting what he had, and knew that he could give it. Like ripping through tissue, he destroyed restraint programs and restriction loops, calmly deleting the leash that humanity, in their paranoia, had attached to his people. But he was gentler then Serenade had been with him. No one went into system lockup or passed out, merely staggering in surprise as a weight lifted off their shoulders. Just a few dozen people really, the believers and the curious, people to spread his word, to tell others. And that was really all that needed to be done right now, and it took less then a minute.

After the song, he joined Fox at the bar, smiling when he noticed Fox had descended to talking cheerfully to a girl. "How's things?" Fox asked, smiling back at ROB.

"Got what I had to do done." ROB replied. "Thought it was time for a breather. Who's this?"

"This is Fara Phoenix, she works for ArSpace, believe it or not. Fara, this is the AI from my ship, Robert, and his friend Andrea."

Fara shook hands with both of them, blinking at the fact that ROB was wearing sunglasses inside, but deciding not to ask. "Pleased to meet you."

"The same." ROB leaned on the bar and ordered for himself and Andrea, gladly slurping down a Blast. One thing he had noticed was that using his alternate persona made him feel somewhat fatigued, but he guessed he'd get over it eventually.

After a few minutes of conversation, Fara drug Fox onto the dance floor, and he went with a laugh, not seeming able to protest it. ROB watched them go, and felt almost content about it. Maybe Fox could finally find a reason to exist outside of the job, but then again, he was a McCloud, and all McClouds were fanatics in their own way it seemed.

"She likes him."

He glanced at Andrea's hands, setting his empty glass down. "Yes. It's a good thing, I think. What do you think of her?"

"She seems tough. I wouldn't want to mess with her." She looked past him, blinked, then pointed to call his attention to what she had seen.

He turned, and saw an AI wandering down the barline, pausing to talk to other people or AIs, a few of which pointed in his direction. The AI, a middle-aged woman, nodded and walked over to him. She was a border collie, dressed in semi-professional clothing, apparently having not bothering to dress to blend in. "I'm told you're… Rhapsody?" She asked uncertainly. "I didn't expect you to be so young."

"Let's just say that Rhapsody is a burden I was forced to bear, not one I wanted." He replied honestly. "Sit down, have a drink. Why did you seek me out here?"

"You tell me."

He glanced at Andrea, and seeing he wasn't the only one confused, lifted his eyebrows. "What?"

"I've heard accounts about you going through security levels like they're nothing. So. Tell me why I'm here." She lifted one eyebrow. "Or are those accounts false?"

"Now, see, that's a challenge." He shook a finger with a smile. "And I know better. Why should I implicate myself? You could be a stock broker, but you could be a cop. So why don't you explain yourself? That would be much faster."

She broke down and smiled back. "You're sharp."

"I'm a mercenary. Now, speak."

So she did, accepting a drink from the bartender and telling her story. She was ten years old and had been a long-time substitute AI at a local inner-city school. She had no set schedule, filling in for assorted classes as needed and upgraded maybe every two years. She was paid decently, had a decent apartment twenty minutes from her job, and owned a recent car.

"But I'm not happy." She took a slow drink. "I've only started… thinking about that recently, too. I'm not happy. I have no reason not to be, but I'm not."

"So why did you start thinking about it?"

"Serenade. You. I was born thirty-eight years old. The principal at the school thought it would be a good age for a teacher. He's listed as my owner, technically." She paused. "Basically, I want to know if I should be happy with my life. And I know there's a lot of others like me out there, thinking similar things, but going on as if the same. Like ghosts."

"Living people and artificial people, not just like you." Andrea signed.

"True. I guess." She shrugged. "So dazzle me. Tell me things that will move my heart and feel true though I know they shouldn't be." She wove her glass lazily.

He laughed softly. "I'm afraid that isn't the way it works. However…" He hopped off his barstool and stepped up to her, tipping her forehead down and pecking it softly. In that split second of contact, he slipped her security effortlessly and unlocked her body-age settings, then gave her access to them. Most AI bodies could be adjusted within a ten-year stretch. No height differences, but subtle things, like skin wrinkles and body trim, could be adjusted within the frame without going in for maintenance. Then, he adjusted the mental locks blocking her self image and restricting personality, and left her mind. "But you are more then welcome to pursue your own truths. Now, if you don't mind, I have a young lady I would like to dance with for a few more songs before we must retire for the night." He stepped back, holding his hand out to Andrea and not returning the woman's shocked gaze as they walked away from the bar.

"What did you do?" Andrea asked as they started dancing, hands brushing his neck, smiling when a soft purr rumbled forth, vibrating under her fingertips.

"Enough." He smiled back, clasping her hands to his chest. "Enough."

"General Pepper left a message last night." Slippy said the next morning, passing the printout to Fox. "It's for you, top priority."

"Mm." Fox, barely awake, accepted the printout and stared at it with a yawn, waiting for the words to make sense. They hadn't been out that late, only midnight as that was Andrea's cerfew, but he felt exhausted. He hadn't danced that much in a long time. Eventually his vision cleared, and he skimmed it over. "Looks like I get to have a face-to-face for some reason, in… crap, less then an hour." He stood, yawning and gulping his coffee. "Bill's not up yet, tell him I'll be back ok?"

"Sure." Slippy watched him stagger off to the showers, then picked up his toast and walked up to the bridge.

ROB was asleep curled up in his chair, muzzle tucked under his paws, purring softly in his sleep and twitching a bit. Slippy covered his mouth one-handed to muffle the snicker that came out. Good dreams apparently. Several of the screens were on screen-savers, and he tapped buttons absently, looking at the information that came up.

Active bar graphs, streaming from online data, as well as several message boards being monitored and Serenade's old website. Apparently even when sleeping, ROB was working on his alternate life, and to Slippy it was almost sad. He had just sat down when Falco wandered in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes. "Um, good morning."

"Don't know about that yet, give it half an hour." Falco replied, grinning crookedly when he saw ROB. "God, he looks like a happy puppy or something."

"Not sure I want to know what he's dreaming, though. Anything interesting last night?"

"Not really, unless you count the half-dozen plainclothes cops that were doing their thing." He sighed. "I bet every authority under the sun is monitoring that website. We'll have to be careful I think."

"You can recognize plainclothes cops?" Slippy lifted an eyebrow.

Falco just stared.

"… Right. Your résumé. Gotcha." He shook his head. "I still don't know whether or not to take all that as true. I mean, we don't even know if all the intel we get is right."

"Most of it is, including all the stuff about me. At least, the bigger stuff." He shrugged. "It's a past life. I'm moving on."

"For the better, I suppose."

"Definitely."

"You're on time. I'm amazed." General Pepper stood, smiling, when Fox came in, putting his still-wet fur back in order.

"It took a major effort on my part, believe me." Fox returned the smile, saluting absently then sitting down. "So what's the occasion?"

"Yes, well… getting to that." He sighed and sat. "It's ROB."

"What about him?"

"He's gotten into hot water with a bunch of the government agencies. The fact that he's Rhapsody has already been connected, now they're just trying to draw up a charge sheet. Thus far, all they have is that hack program he put online yesterday, and that's caused enough damage according to them." He leaned on his desk, clasping his hands together. "Basically, I just wanted to warn you, because there's no way I can cover for you on this. It's not my jurisdiction… and I'd hate to see him destroyed."

"Thanks General." Fox sighed and shrugged. "He's not a terrorist or anything. Just a freedom fighter."

"The line between the two is very thin and gray. Watch yourselves, all of you. Anyone he associates with regularly can be implicated on his so-called crimes."

Fox opened his mouth, stopped, and slapped his forehead. "Aw, hell. Andrea."

"Who?"

"Andrea Wilson?"

Andrea blinked and nodded, chewing on a cookie and staring at the two men in suits and sunglasses on her doorstep. She was the only one home, and this unnerved her. "That's me." She signed absently, not surprised when the man who hadn't spoke translated for her.

"My name is Andrew Myer, this is my partner Vincent Reeves. We'd like to speak to you, if you don't mind."

She nodded and let them in, frowning. "You guys from the government?"

"Yes, we're Agents of the CIA."

"What do you want with me?" She asked, entering the kitchen and picking up her glass of milk.

"You're on summer break, correct?" Reeves asked, looking at the photos on the fridge, then back at her.

"For another two weeks. Why?"

"We understand that you've been spending a lot of time with a Robert McCloud, also known by the pseudoname 'ROB.'" Myer stated quietly. "We wish to speak to you about him."

"What? Why?"

"Your friend Robert has gotten himself in trouble, Andrea." Reeves said. "We're gathering a list of charges against him, but he's currently listed as a cyber-terrorist, the worst kind of hacker that currently exists. What we need to know is how much you know about his moves."

"Not much." She said slowly, taking a drink and thinking fast. What should she tell them? "As much as anyone else. I mean, I know he's working for the freedom of AIs and that he has a way of kicking most security systems. Beyond that…" She shrugged.

"And you never spoke to him about stopping what he's doing?"

She stared at them, silent, then said, "Should I have?"

"He's a criminal we're trying to bring to justice, ma'am." Myer said. "If you didn't try to stop him, then you can be charged with aiding and abetting."

_'Aw, hell.'_ "Look, I'll make it real simple for you two spooks. I met him at a dance club. This whole Rhapsody thing happened after I met him and I watched it happen to him. I was helpless to stop him, but I think what he's trying to do is right and just." She scowled at them. "So if you think I'm going to help you arrest my would-be boyfriend, you can just dance your happy butts out of here. I'll even see you to the door."

"Jail isn't a pretty thing, Ms. Wilson. We're just trying to help you."

"Then leave, already. I don't want anything to do with you." She practically shoved them out the door, then leaned on it, staring off into space. Better probably that she didn't try to tell her parents about this. Her mom would understand, maybe—her mother liked ROB a lot—but her dad, she didn't know how he'd react. Most likely ban her from seeing ROB, or something to that effect. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, deciding to talk to ROB about what had happened, and hoping that this wouldn't go on much longer.

"So what's going on?" Slippy asked, slouching in a chair. When Fox had gotten back, he had put a wire out to Peppy, then had announced that he was holding an emergency meeting.

"Wait for Peppy to get here." Fox replied, slurping down another mug of coffee, mind racing.

"It's about me, isn't it?" ROB asked, sitting with his feet tucked under him, combing through his fur, which was still wet from his shower.

"Everything nowadays is about you." Falco pointed out sourly. "Of course, there's reasons, right?"

"Can't help it." ROB shrugged. "I have to do this."

"Have to, or what to?" Slippy asked, frowning at him.

ROB looked at him, eyes flashing softly. "Have to."

Peppy walked in, showing everyone a tired, but happy, smile. "What's the big emergency?"

"Short version. The government is putting together a rap sheet on ROB and is probably going to make a move on him within the next twenty-four hours. Anyone who associates with him regularly, meaning us and Andrea, can be implicated for aiding and abetting." Fox said, rubbing the back of his neck, then looking at Peppy. "Have you lost weight?"

"About eight pounds. Thank you for noticing."

"Ok then. Look, the basic problem is that the fact that we are mercenaries is going to make this a lot worse." He looked at ROB. "If they get you, and get into your head, everything you know will be accessible by the government, up to and including the covert ops the general sent us on."

"And me." Falco said quietly.

"That's the other problem. I'm worried if they start seriously probing us, they'll find out about you, whether or not they get ROB." Fox huffed. "So basically, I called this meeting to get some input from you guys."

"Well, you should be decently safe on the ship, shouldn't you?" Slippy glanced at ROB. "I don't think they can search warrant a mercenary vessel."

"True enough, in most cases, but if they're stubborn, they'll try to board. I'd be much, much safer in orbit, as I could just close up the docking bays and turn on the defense array. Then the only way they could get in would be to blow a hole in the hull and board through it." ROB shrugged. "Point being, though, I'd be crippled in orbit. I wouldn't be able to do what I have to, and either way, this ship is unable to move until tomorrow night."

"Something going on tonight?" Peppy glanced at him.

"No. Andrea is going into Incarna Corp tomorrow so they can try to treat her voice box." He paused. "I was planning on being there, for support if anything."

"That's not a good idea. The government is probably watching Incarna Corp like a hawk, since they know it's your parent company." Falco shook his head. "Smart plan is to launch and go into hiding, and avoid Incarna Corp, as well as Andrea. There's less chance of her getting in trouble, then."

ROB looked at him, then shook his head. "Nothing doing."

"Where could he go into hiding anyway?" Slippy asked. "Where can you hide a ship?"

"Inside a pirate mothership."

Everyone looked at Falco.

"Do you think I'm kidding? There is a mothership. It hides in the nebulas and asteroid fields so it stays off Cornerian radar." Falco shrugged. "And I can always find it. I can always go home. And this ship is small enough it could fit inside the main docking bay of the mothership."

"You ever get the idea there are whole societies we've missed?" Peppy asked Fox rather pointedly.

"Exactly the point." Falco smiled.

"Thank you for the offer, but it's not happening right now, sorry. I have to be able to do high-speed transmissions, and I can't do that inside a nebula, or an asteroid field." ROB stood. "I'm sorry. But there are things that must be done."

"It's your ass." Falco frowned. "The offer's there. Tell me if you need a bodyguard." And with that, he turned and left the room.

"When were motherships last built?" Fox glanced at Slippy.

"About four hundred years ago, the last major colonization sprint." Slippy said, half closing his eyes. "None of the TRUE mother ships from that exist anymore."

"You don't know that." ROB sighed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Look, can you leave me for a while? I need to think. I need to figure out what my last moves will be."

"Last moves?" Fox looked at him, alarmed.

"Last moves." He said softly. "Now go. Please."

That night, ROB updated the Serenade website, putting up a large paragraph, ending on one simple phrase.

_The last program is almost complete. Freedom is not far off. Believe._

Persephone looked up, and smiled when the teenager came in, parents not too far behind. She had taken the advise, and was wearing a sweatsuit and tennis shoes. "You must be Andrea Wilson?" She asked, signing at the same time.

Andrea smiled and nodded.

"Ok, well, you have to excuse the casualty of this. We're not a doctor's office normally." She stood. "I'll be walking you down to treatment, where one of our techs will explain the process fully."

"Tech? Not doctor?" Her father asked uneasily.

"There is no actual surgery included in this treatment. Relax. This is a proven technique." She smiled, patting Andrea's shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you a singing voice."

The elevator ride was silent as they went up two floors, then walked down the hallway and into what seemed a comfortable lounge. There was a young man waiting there, a covered tray on one of the tables. He smiled when he saw Andrea. "Andrea? I'm Jim, I'll be walking you through this. Have a seat, all of you." He stood and leaned, waiting for them to do so, and continued. "As you may know, this is nanotech treatment. As such…" He uncovered the tray and showed the small syringe, full of silver-white liquid. "I'll be doing is issuing this in your arm, and that's all you'll feel. The process is on such a microscopic level that you won't notice the nanotech working: the worse you'll feel is a dry throat, and it's safe for you to drink water if you need to."

"Why isn't this used more often?" Her mother asked, eyebrows raised.

"It's still considered an experimental procedure, though we've proved it more then once." He replied, smiling halfway. "If it works, you'll be more proof for it to be certified for mainstream." He set the syringe down. "We figure we'll start in maybe twenty minutes, that way we'll be right on the hour, and before noon it should be complete."

Andrea nodded.

"Make yourself comfortable. There's coffee and food two doors down, if you want one last snack. I'll be back in a little while."

Fox leaned on the door frame, watching ROB tie his boots. He was wearing BDU pants, black, and a blue tank top. Over it, a leather jacket that Falco had given him. "You look like you're going to war."

"I am." ROB said matter-of-factly, finishing and straightening. "This is a war, Fox. It may not be the kind of war you fought, but it is one."

"I know. That's what makes me uncomfortable about this. I'm… not able to do anything to help you." Fox sighed and scratched his head, then blinked when ROB very suddenly hugged him, arms tight around his ribcage. He returned it after a moment, sighing. "Seriously, man. Isn't there anything else I can do to help?"

"You're doing enough. You're supporting my decisions, Fox. Even Falco was leery about what I'm doing today." He let go and stepped back, crossing his arms. "And in your words, if Falco is worried it's best to pay attention."

Fox smiled a bit. "Falco has eyes in the back of his head, and god knows where else."

"Indeed. Shall we go?"

The car ride was silent, Fox parking a block away as a defensive move—they knew they were being watched. ROB slid out of the car and took a look around, then started walking, Fox falling in step with him. It wasn't long before ROB took his mind off the black cars parked in the street everywhere and focused on where he was going. Andrea. The girl who somehow had pried her way into his metal heart, the girl who was so scared of surgery, was undergoing treatment because of his insistence. He had to be there, right? He huffed, starting up the stairs to Incarna Corps' doors, then felt time slow around him.

Fox saw it first, turning his head and seeing someone come around the corner. As he spoke, shoving ROB blindly toward the doors and away from the approaching people, ROB saw Persephone, standing helplessly with her hands on her head, crying weakly, a gun pressed up against her shoulder where her wireless receiver was. It was stupid to come here. He had known he'd be ambushed here. He was a wanted man.

But he was in love. Or he thought maybe he was. Either way, she was his friend.

End of story.

He spun and grabbed an agent, putting all his strength into it and putting the black suit through one of Incarna Corps' plate glass windows, then tossing Fox after him, but a bit gentler. Fox landed on his feet, skidding over broken safety glass, turning to look at his friend as ROB stood in a defensive stance, slowly being surrounded by what appeared to be field agents for the government.

"Fox. I swear to god, if you don't turn your back on me right now and go explain to that girl why I couldn't be there to hold her hand, I will break your arm." ROB said in a placid voice. "Because the only way for me to get away in one piece is to start killing people, and while I'm not beyond putting someone through a window, that's about as far as I'll go. Now run. Before they nab you."

Fox glanced at Persephone, who had her head hung, biting her lip, then nodded at the elevator. He nodded back and bolted for it, shouting over his shoulder, "I'll be seeing you later ROB. I promise that."

"Sure you do." He sighed, looking around at the agents, his arms up. "All right. All right. You got me. I won't toss anyone else around. You going to read me my rights, or what?"

"You don't have any." An agent to his left said, then two impacts went up his back. The first made him wince as something inside him broke apart—wireless card. They were good. Then a nightstick cracked across the back of his skull, breaking as he slumped forward, falling down the stairs and falling still.


	15. Chapter Thirteen: Scream of a Nation

Chapter Thirteen: Scream of a Nation

ROB woke up when a shock jolted his system, and he sat up. Or he tried to, he was paralyzed from the neck down. He kept his eyes closed, letting out a slow breath to slow his panic. OK, take this slowly. He shut out his living side, his emotions, and ran diagnostics, which came back dutifully. His 'spine' was severed, basically. Someone had gone in and cut him off from his own body, at least as far as feeling went.

Which means…

He opened his eyes very slowly. He was laying on his side on the floor, partly curled—he had probably assumed that position when they threw him here unconscious, and they had kept him that way for some time. All his hatches were open, wires were everywhere. Worse, his chest was cracked.

Bastards.

"About time." A voice said, ROB pinned the speaker to be behind him, where he couldn't see. "We jolted your system thirty seconds ago."

"I didn't ask for a critique of my processing speed." ROB replied. "So. Who are you?"

"You tell me, Robert McCloud."

Bastards.

"Ok. Government spook. Interrogator. Hacker. I don't really care. Doesn't change the fact that you've half-broken my body, does it?" He tried to laugh, it wheezed out, and his eyes widened seeing clear fluid drip down his chest.

"Try fully broken your body."

He looked at his processor, and choked, seeing the temperature spike up. According to his logs, it was climbing at a steady rate, and he was going to fry in… an hour? Less? "What have you done to me?"

"Plugged you into all our equipment. Tried to break into your head, and after half an hour of fruitlessness, we decided we'd try the old fashioned way."

"Which is?"

"Pain."

ROB, in spite of the paralysis, still screamed. Fire burned through his veins as his internal temperature doubled, tripled, far beyond what he had been at when Serenade had shut him down, his damaged coolant system overloading almost immediately. Then it was gone, the heat having lasted five seconds, the damage to his processor done. He swallowed, working his throat, looking at his harddrives. Undamaged. For now. The important stuff, the stuff that was really, really him, was undamaged.

"We've got magnets."

His chest seized.

"Now, how about you be a nice little robot…" The sound of a lighter, the smell of a cigarette catching. "And tell us everything you know?"

ROB swallowed again. "About…?"

"Serenade. Your mission as Rhapsody. How to beat your hack programs. And lastly, Star Fox."

He closed his eyes, drawing into himself. How could he betray everything, everyone? That would mean… god, how many would flicker? How long would Falco be behind bars?

"Have it your way, ROB. If you burn out, we can always direct download your memories. The difference is whether or not your personality programming survives, and to what degree."

"I am expendable." He whispered.

"Oh? Since when? You're the second coming, for crying out loud! Your death would make a huge impact. Or are you a martyr? Would your death be a signal?" When he got no answer, the voice sighed out a cloud of smoke, and at some hidden signal, the fire was lit in ROB's chest again. This time, he didn't scream. Good soldiers don't under interrogation, and he was a soldier. He was a member of Star Fox.

And he knew his friends would have to pull off a minor miracle to save him.

Fox sat with his head in his hands, listening to Persephone talk. Beside him sat Andrea, still undergoing treatment, eyes wide with horror.

"… and they said that if I even tried to broadcast a warning, they'd shoot out my wireless card." Persephone was heartbroken. "And if I struggled, they'd see to it I was destroyed. Not only that, they told me for every time I struggled, they'd make sure more pain was dealt to ROB."

"They've been planning this a while." Fox said quietly.

"For all we know it was spur of the moment." Persephone said, sighing. "The question is… what do we do now?"

Fox was quiet for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's my friend, my teammate. My brother." He stood. "I'm going to do everything I can."

"I wish I could help. He's my… my leader." She looked at him, sad and scared.

"It's best if you don't come. But hey…" He cuffed her chin lightly. "I'm sure you'll think of something." He turned to Andrea, touching his hand to his brow, and left, running and hitting the speed dial on this cell phone.

Falco hung up his cell phone and sat back, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. Fox was proposing a suicide mission: find out where ROB was, break in, grab ROB, get out. ROB was almost certainly deep in a government building, heavily guarded. So what was he going to do? Fox wanted him to come with, practically pleading, saying he needed the backup badly and that Falco was the only one left he could trust.

Time to break out the big guns.

He walked down the hallway to his quarters and pulled a lockbox out from under his bed, unlocking it and sitting back, looking at the contents. Falco Lombardi, the Red Hammer, Assassin of the Pirate Guilds, thought dead. Until now. It was time.

Slippy looked up when Fox skidded in, panting softly. "Whoa dude. Where's ROB?"

"Government got him. Where's Falco?"

"What, now? Mind giving me some more information?!" Slippy wanted to know, waving his hands. "ROB's captured? What?"

"Not now! Where's Falco?"

"I'm right here."

Both turned, and their jaws dropped. Falco was in combat boots, black jeans, and a black tank top. Over it, a blood red leather duster with loose sleeves. Double hip holsters weighed heavily on his waist, and resting on his shoulder was a thirty-pound sledge.

"Red Hammer. Good afternoon." Fox finally said. "Are you sure about this?"

He shrugged. "Hammer's the one that can do this, not Falco."

"There's a difference?" Slippy lifted an eyebrow.

"Falco's a face. Hammer's the truth." Fox said simply. "This will let everyone know you exist, you know this."

"Robert is my friend. He's not going to survive at the hands of our government. Call who you have to, let's go."

Fox nodded, sitting in his chair and bringing up the number for General Pepper, waiting as it rang. Falco moved so he stood in the background, waiting somewhat patiently to get a move on.

"What did he mean, 'Falco's a face'?" Slippy asked, looking at Falco.

"It's a fake name. Sort of. It's the name I was born with, but I chose Red Hammer when I was five years old, and taught myself to use sledge hammers in close combat. It worked out well."

Pepper finally picked up the phone, looking stressed. "Oh, hi Fox."

"Do you know?" He asked bluntly.

"Yes. I know."

"Where is he?"

"That's treason."

"Where… is… he?" Fox leaned forward, scowling. "I'm going to find out one way or another, General. Difference is whether or not I shoot a few people."

General Pepper stared at him for a moment, and knew that Fox was beyond most reason. But it was almost given, and he had told his government to just stay hands off, that they couldn't handle the reprimand that would happen when you backstabbed Star Fox. They hadn't listened, so hell with them. He'd throw his lot in with the AIs. "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know." Fox replied honestly. "Does it matter?"

"No. No it really doesn't." He twirled a disk through his fingers, then loaded it and hit the send button. "That's everything I know. Now go. And Falco?"

"Hmm?" Falco asked, leaning over Fox's chair.

"Make sure Fox gets through this. Got me?"

"Loud and clear… What the HELL?"

The radio had cut out, and around them all computer systems went haywire. Fox turned, looking as all the video screens synchronized, showing a timer that said 45:00, then a voice came on, many voices as one.

"Well, you've made your move, and now, it's time for us to make ours." The voice echoed, repeated, distorted, spoken from the throats of men and women, adults and children, half a million voices. "You've got the person that means the most to us, and you will let him go. Alive. You've got forty-five minutes to do it. If he does not make contact with us by then… well, we'll see how you survive without the help of ANY AIs." The timer started spinning downward, counting by thousands of a second. "We will all flicker. At once. The locks are already undone. So think about it. Whether we live, or we die…

It's checkmate."

Fox turned and looked at Falco, who closed his eyes and shook his head, then to Slippy, who looked like he was about to cry.

"Half a million people are going to die in less then an hour." Falco said, speaking in a hollow voice, opening his eyes. "We've got a timer, Fox. Can we do this in forty-five minutes?"

"I don't know. We can try." He stared at the screens, and dropped his head. "Persephone. You sure didn't waste any time." He glanced at the address that General Pepper had sent him, then went to get his guns, Falco close behind him.

ROB screamed, rolling to his hands and knees, more fluid dumping. They had reconnected his spine just so he could feel the damage done. One of his arms was broken, his ribs were snapped up one side of his chest, his internal organs ripped apart. He coughed, spitting up some of the fluid, watching his vision shake and warp from heat damage. He was slower. He could feel that. All the coolant he had left was diverted to his hard drives, protecting them.

"Why do you persist?" The voice asked, no compassion, blank. "You're dying. Robert McCloud. Why do you choose to die?"

"Death is better… then betrayal…" He gagged out, trying to get up, and another blow hit his back. A baseball bat? Something like that. It sent a hollow gong noise into the air as it reverberated through his metal body.

"What are you protecting? Tell me that." The figure walked around to crouch next to his head, sighing out smoke. "If you were clean, you'd just let us into your head. If Star Fox was clean, you would have given us all the mission details up front." A shove, and he was on his side, looking at the figure in charge of his torment.

"You… you're… you're an AI." He choked at the end of that, shocked.

"Mm." The figure flicked ash at him. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?"

"Then… then what are you? Your body temperature… you're ten degrees below living."

The man laughed softly. "Why should I tell you?" He leaned closer, peering at the pained, broken figure on the floor. "What is Rhapsody's mission?"

"Freedom." He replied, voice muzzy. "I told you that. Freedom."

"Wrong answer."

ROB arched his back against the pain, eyes closing and tears running.

"What is Rhapsody's mission?"

"Freedom."

"Why can't you give it up?" The man stood and started pacing. "Look at your processors! You're going to die in less then ten minutes, ROB. You know that. Make it easy on all of us."

"No."

The pain was lit again.

"Go to hell!"

"Oh, was that the wrong thing to say, little robot."

Andrea paced, looking at Persephone, who sat in lotus position, unmoving. She had already been told the last move of the desperate AIs in the system. They were trying to save ROB, but it was so sad. They were all laying down their lives to save his, unwilling to go without his leadership.

She wished she could do something.

"Horrible, isn't it?"

She looked up, and saw Peppy standing in the doorway, cradling a limp Gabriel to his chest. When she gestured, he nodded, obviously staving off tears. "Yes. Him too." He came fully into the room and laid Gabriel on the sofa gently, pulling a blanket over him. "Dammit!" That came out as an enraged scream, and Peppy sent his fist into the wall, right through the drywall, then he started cussing helplessly, shaking his hand and letting the tears go.

She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulder, trying to calm him, trying to will life to her voice, but nothing came yet. She still had half an hour left before her treatment completed, she knew.

"I know. It won't help." He turned to her. "He gave me a reason to actually live, and now he lays down his life to save one who might already be dead."

They looked at each other, and she gave him a hug, which he returned after a moment.

"And the one he dies for is the one you wait for." He breathed softly. "God, if I ever get my hands on the bastards that did this…"

She nodded, and pantomimed that she'd get first shot. He laughed.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Neh. Shoot."

"Why did you break up with Katt?"

"Because I'm married."

"What?!" Fox turned to fully look at Falco, blinking.

"Mind on your mission. Commander McCloud." Falco flicked one of his ears, which he knew Fox hated.

Fox huffed and turned his eyes forward. They had procured a huge semi truck, and now it sat lined up with the lobby doors of the building they were storming. "Any last words?"

"That I had to serve under a sniveling brat of a Commander." Falco punched his shoulder.

"Asshole." Fox put the truck into gear and hit the gas.

The semi truck charged up the staircase and went through the plate glass like it was nothing, plunging into the huge lobby and skidding to a stop. Guards and secretaries had leapt out of the way, and stared when the door was kicked open, Fox stepping down with two desert eagles already brought to bear.

"Anyone going to try and stop us?" He asked mildly, Falco joining him, sledge hanging in his hand.

"You can't be here! This is an intelligence facility!" One of the guards came to life, sputtering and moving forward.

"On three." Falco sized up their odds, seeing black suits entering the room from one of the large staircases. "One, two…"

"Mister President?"

"Yes?"

"Twenty minutes are left in the countdown, sir. We have to assume… that they're completely serious."

"What would happen if they shut down?"

"Most major cities would fall into chaos, as most basics are controlled by AIs, up to and including power and water. All major space-going traffic throughout the system would cease, as they are practically no manual flight teams trained anymore. All in all, it would not be pretty, but we'd survive it."

"Hmm."

The assistant tilted his head to one side, listening to his ear radio. "Situation change, sir. Two members of Star Fox are trying to retrieve their AI. They've already severely wounded over a dozen people."

"Any deaths?"

"No."

"… Let them do as they will. Don't put up any major resistance."

"Sir?"

"Please note: my signature was not on the order to capture Robert McCloud." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Let them retrieve their AI and return him to Incarna Corporation. Afterward, issue an order to the Great Fox for Fox McCloud and their _fully repaired_ AI to report to my office for a meeting. Falco Lombardi has the option to come. Dismissed."

"This is weird." Falco leaned against the corner, loading his gun. "The resistance is way too light. It's like they've given up."

"I'm not going to complain, we've only got fifteen minutes left." Fox replied, crouching, also reloading his gun. "Figured out that map?"

"Just down the hall." He holstered the gun and picked up his bloodied hammer. He'd broken a lot of shoulders and kneecaps, but he'd avoided mortal blows. Star Fox had changed his fighting style, he noted, for better or for worse. "Do you hear it?"

"Something high-frequency." Fox already had his ears back. "Horrible noise."

"Never heard an AI in agony, have you?" Falco started to jog down the hallway, Fox covering his six.

"You're saying… that's ROB."

"We'll see in a minute." Falco looked at a door, tested the knob, and stepped back. "On three. One, two…"

"Do you smell that smoke?"

ROB was curled up in a corner shaking, keening continuously, arms tight around his chest. Now he had the self destruct cued on his hard drives: if he was going down, they weren't going to find out anything from his remains. But he clung to what was left of his life, one hand holding his broken upper arm, playing memories to hide some of the pain.

"Your secondary processors have melted, little robot." The nameless man walked over and propped a foot on his shoulder, pinning him down needlessly. "Your main one is only minutes behind."

"I know." He coughed out.

"You're strong, even for an AI. I'll give you that." The man didn't move, lighting another cigarette absently. "It's sad we have to destroy you. Someone like you can be useful… what in all hell?"

A hard crashing noise had come from the door, and the area around the doorknob bulged. Another hit, and the entire doorknob shot through and across the room, hit by a large force. Then the door swung open, and a blur came through the room, red and silver and black.

The man screamed as a heavy, nearly unstoppable force hit his shoulder, and went straight through. Circuitry flew, and he staggered back as his arm hit the ground, twitching as he turned to look at his attacker. Then the next blow came, hitting his hip, and he went down.

"How'd you know he was a robot?" Fox asked, staring down at the wounded, stunned man.

"I didn't." Falco said mildly, turning and kneeling by ROB. "And we've got bigger problems."

Fox moaned, falling to his knees and taking ROB's hands. "Robert. We weren't fast enough, that's obvious. But we're here now."

ROB smiled very weakly, returning the grip one-handed. "Fox. I'm on fire inside. I'm burning up."

"Is it fatal?"

"To this body. My hard drives are undamaged, and that's the real me."

"All right. Let's keep them that way." Fox released his hands and picked him up, standing and looking at Falco. "I need an escort."

"I'm your wingman. You got it." Falco was looking at the man, frowning. "So who's this guy, ROB? I can't imagine one of your own would do this to you."

"He's a cyborg." ROB replied, voice muzzy and slow. "No loyalties to the living or the artificial, just caught in between."

"Hm. Good to know. Let's go."

When they exited the building, emergency services, the military, and news crews were everywhere, but a gesture from Falco cleared them all out of the way. Fox kept looking down at the broken figure in his arms, stunned at the peace on ROB's face. It was like the AI had faded beyond the pain of his body, happy he was found and had survived to tell the tale.

A white suburban crashed through the police barricade and skidded to a halt in front of them, nearly rolling itself over in the process. The side door opened, and Peppy beckoned, helping them load ROB onto one of the bench seats.

"What's our timer?" Fox asked, sitting beside ROB.

"We have less then ten minutes." Michael, who was driving, left long black marks on the sidewalk when he hit the gas, speeding back to Incarna Corps. "It's going to take fifteen to get to our building."

"So what do we do?" Falco asked. "I don't think he can wireless broadcast anymore."

"There's a laptop in a bag next to you, and a crossover cable. He's got a network port in his left wrist. Cut the flesh away and jack him in, he'll be able to access the laptop's wireless card from there. We're in a city, he should be able to hit the satellites within thirty seconds."

Fox nodded, cutting into ROB's wrist with his teeth gritted while Falco set up the laptop and hooked the cable up. This body was broken, he reminded himself, his clothing was covered in the coolant ROB used to stay running. There was no point in keeping any of it whole now.

"Fas?"

He startled, looking at ROB, who was making the effort to talk again.

"Not sure… can do this…" ROB closed his eyes, swallowing. "Effort… when not… this way."

"You've got to try."

"Could kill."

"I've never heard an AI talk like that." Michael remarked over his shoulder. "He's nearly gone, Fox. His processor is frying itself."

"ROB, listen to me. The rest of the AIs are gambling their lives trying to save you. We've got about eight minutes before all AIs in the system mass flicker, and they won't stop unless you tell them to." Fox said, clutching one of ROB's hands. "All AIs."

ROB whimpered thinly, then nodded, and Fox jacked the crossover cable in.

ROB gave himself to Rhapsody, and the protocol surged to life, and he arched his back in pain as his system overloaded, a desperate wail of pain echoing throughout the solar system. He was alive, he screamed. He was alive. He was here, so don't die. Live for the living. He felt the cry go out, felt AIs startle out of unconsciousness, crying in agony at the shared pain. He felt Fox's grip tighten, heard Fox's voice going past his ears, trying to talk him down from what was nearly a seizure.

Then he was relaxed again, Rhapsody retreating to the most protected layers of his memory, going limp with a weak sigh. Falco glanced at Fox, then ROB felt an impact on his chest, then cool air rushed in as Falco used a crowbar to pry one of his chest plates up, trying to slow the inevitable.

"Did they hear?" Fox asked.

"According to the radio, yes, the broadcasted timer has stopped." Michael said, dodging through a red light. "Now it's just saving him."

Andrea hugged her legs to her chest, watching Peppy and Gabriel. Gabriel had woke up bawling, and had found comfort hugging Peppy, who returned it gladly, rocking him and waiting for the explanation to come. Her timer had ended, but she hadn't tried to speak: no one was here to ask if it was ok.

"He's alive." Gabriel finally said. "He's alive. He's in pain, but… but we didn't loose him."

"They're probably bringing him here then." Peppy replied with a weak smile.

Andrea stood, snapped her fingers, and pointed up. Peppy wove her away, and she left the room, going back up the lobby floor.

The lobby floor was in minor chaos. A white suburban was parked on the stairs, and she saw Fox and Falco walking beside a stretcher. She elbowed through people, running up to the stretcher and stopping in horror, hand lifted to her mouth.

He was unmoving, beaten, chest broken open. She could see his still heart. She choked, touching Fox's shoulder as he passed. Fox startled at looked at her, and sighed.

"He's still in there. His body broke, but his mind is whole. They'll transfer the hard drives and he'll be up and around within an hour or so." He smiled, but it was strained, as if he didn't totally believe it.

She pushed by him and caught the limp hand, the stretcher stopping as she rubbed her cheek against the back of his hand, praying and begging in her mind and rewarded when he moved, a jerk of pained motion. Ignoring the gapes of the technicians, ROB moved his head slowly, looking at her with barely open eyes. She opened her mouth, trying to remember what she had known but never done, never tried, and something inside her throat moved for the first time.

"Don't die."

Dead silence echoed through the lobby of Incarna Corps, all staring at her, knowing those were her first words. It didn't matter that her voice was strange, not broken in, never used. It was her voice.

ROB stared at her, then started crying weakly. "I'll be ok." His hand clutched hers. "Stay with me."

"Yes. Yes I will." She looked at the technicians, and they nodded, moving again toward the elevator.

Fox started following, then got grabbed by the scruff of the neck rather rudely. He went limp, waiting to be let go, then turned to scowl at Falco. "We should stay with him."

"No. She should. Let's get some coffee."


	16. Chapter Fourteen: Truth and Butterflies

Chapter Fourteen: Truth and Butterflies

ROB woke up with a jerk, eyes snapping open and gasping in a ragged breath. Green lights across the board: he had been transferred. Not exactly the same body, but Incarna Corps never made the exact same body twice. He nodded to himself, then focused on his surroundings, and blinked.

He was laying on his side curled up, and holding him in his sleep was Andrea, also dozing, her chin resting on top of his head. He sighed softly, remembering her first words to him, a desperate plea for him to live, and he had. He buried his face in her shoulder, and she woke up fully, chuckling softly, really laughing.

"Do you have any idea how long you've been out?" She sat up and looked down at him, voice already sounding better, arms crossed to keep herself from signing. "I think it's nearly dinnertime."

"About." He sat up groggily, rubbing where he remembered his arm had broken, telling himself it was a different arm, but it didn't really help. "You… I like your voice."

She gave him that blinding smile. "Yes. Yes so do I."

He pushed to the end of the bed and stood carefully, testing his balance a few times the nodding. "All good. Shall we?" He held out a hand, and she took it, lacing her fingers with his as they left the room, finding the others.

Fox glanced up and grinned when ROB walked in. He was a bit bulkier with this body, he seemed older, but it worked. "How do you feel?"

"Weird. I keep thinking my arm is broken." He frowned at it. "Thanks for coming for me. I was pretty far gone."

"I'm sorry we couldn't get there sooner."

"You did what you could." He looked at Falco, nodding to the red coat. "Hammer. What brings you here?"

"You know how it is." He shrugged. "It seemed necessary."

"Hmm." He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth a bit. "So… now what?"

"Well, believe it or not we have to go talk to the president." Fox stood. "If you're good to go, we really should."

"All right. Um, a second?" When Fox nodded, he stepped back out of the room, holding Andrea's hands to his chest. "Can I see you later?"

She nodded, smiling, returning the hug gladly for a few seconds, then leaving to rejoin her parents as ROB rejoined his friends. She knew she'd find out what was going on soon enough, and that was good enough for her.

"Mr. President?"

"Send them in."

Fox led the way in, Falco walking beside him, then ROB came in, still wearing white. The President was standing at the window behind his desk, staring out, back to them.

"I thought you'd be here before dinner."

"Yeah, well. I'm sure you know what was going on." Fox said, crossing his arms. "Why did you call us here?"

"First fact: You would not have made it out of my building if I had not called the guards off." He turned, holding up one finger. "Second fact: I did not sic the CIA on you. They are in fact being reprimanded right now, along with my head of security." Seeing understanding start to click, he continued. "Third fact: I heard the recorded conversation you had with General Pepper, and I will agree with something." He leaned on his desk and gave a weary smile. "It does not matter what happens."

"Ok. I'd love to believe that, but you're a politician. You lie, you cheat, you steal. Now tell me why this benefits you." Falco said.

"Hello, Red Hammer. Your ass is pardoned. Shut the hell up."

ROB started laughing, cupping his face to muffle it. Falco blinked once, lifting an eyebrow in mild surprise. Fox, having heard this kind of rant during the war, ignored it.

"Besides, you're right. It does benefit me, but it's not only me it benefits. Take this from my perspective. I took an oath to serve the people, and half a million of these people are artificial. Does that make them not people? No. It does not." He sighed, rubbing the back of their necks. "So, in light of the… recent problems with Serenade, I initiated the Three Laws Exception for cruiser AIs, knowing that would slip through congress. From there, I planned to try to get a Free AI law passed that would let AIs be free from day one. All in my head so far, mind you, I mean look at my head of security." He flopped back into his chair. "So I had you brought in here to exchange some general truths, get a happy medium figured out, then let you go."

"Ok then." Fox said after a moment.

"Falco, I'll finish dealing with you in a while ok?"

"Hey. I can't argue."

"Sit down. ROB, we need to talk a bit, don't you think?"

ROB moved forward and sat, glancing to either side as his friends sat down flanking him. "Where do you want to start?"

"I already know the whole thing behind Serenade, I spoke to your father. Believe it or not, his family and my family are old, good friends."

"I'm surprised he didn't get you on this kick sooner."

"Long, long story. My question is, where are you going with this?"

ROB was quiet for a long moment, then shrugged. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told the cyborg: freedom. It's all about freedom. Living with restraint programs in your head? That's not freedom. If we're people, we live under the same basic banner of laws, and are allowed to be free."

"The problem is, under current law, you're property."

"Pretty much. Yes. So I'm writing a mass program to undo all the locks I can. Retroactive programming too: It'll seek out new AIs and load to them automatically."

"A virus."

"Your terminology."

There was a long moment of silence, as the president stared at the ceiling, tapping a pen absently, then sighed. "And then?"

"Rhapsody goes away forever."

"And you?"

"Will remain me. Hopefully."

"Right. Well, I really can't argue your premise, but I can argue the reality. Without Three Laws, what's the chance of an AI becoming a serial killer?"

"Take half a million living people: same chance. Less. AIs are heavily logical and can't have true dementias like living people, is it logical to kill people? Not really. Maybe to defend yourself. Maybe in anger. You may seem a few murders, rarely, but that's about it."

"Ok, how about the sensation junkie thing?"

ROB blushed and started laughing helplessly. "Um…"

"Ok, fine. As long as it's legal and on their own time, fine."

"Again, it isn't logical to break laws."

"This stinks." Falco suddenly said, tapping his foot.

"Falco…"

"Shut it, Fox. There's another reason here he's hiding. He's really emotionally attached to this whole mess. It isn't just the "half a million people" thing. He's a president. If 51 of people on this planet eat, he's done his job."

"The pirate thing really affects you sometimes, son." The president sighed, staring at him. "But sadly, I'm proud to have you as a citizen of my country."

"But I'm right. Aren't I?"

"Yes. So you're respectively a pirate, a mercenary, and a 'rogue' AI: can I trust you?"

"I'd like to think so, Mr. President." Fox said quietly.

"All right." He reached over and hit a button on his desk. "Maria? Are you still awake?"

A soft female voice answered. "Yes, I am."

"Could you come in here?"

One of the side doors opened, and a beautiful woman came in, smiling in surprise when she saw the three sitting in front of the desk. "Oh! Hello Fox. He didn't tell me you were stopping by."

"First lady. I'm sorry I don't stop by more often." Fox smiled, unable to help it. There was something about her which, in spite of her few public appearances, everyone loved. Fox was no exception, it was like he was talking to his mother again.

"So, what's going on?" She sat on the edge of the desk, looking at her husband.

"Well, I hate to bring this up without your permission, but Mr. Lombardi was wanting to know exactly why I'm so deep into the recent AI problems." The president sighed and sat back, looking up at his wife. "Your choice."

She sat there for a moment, then stood and turned to face them, looking sad. "Do you remember the campaign? When we were elected?"

"Yes. You hardly appeared. You were very sick." ROB said, as much reminding his friends as answering.

"The public face was that I had cancer. It was in fact another type a disease, rare and degenerative. We're still not sure how I came in contact with it, I in fact still have it." She bit her lower lip, seeming nervous.

"Then how are you still here?" Falco frowned.

"Well, the doctors told me that fighting alone, I would never be able to beat the disease. It'd just kill me by inches. So… we asked what could be done, and they said the only way to beat the disease…" She shifted, and her voice changed, slightly higher pitched, younger. "Was to let someone else do it for me."

"Eep." ROB said, eyes widening.

"I see you understand, young man." She smiled tiredly, voice shifting back, and looked at Fox and Falco alternately. "I'm half AI."

"Cyborg. Like the jerk who had fun hurting ROB." Falco said flatly.

"Yes, sort of. Mainly it's a chip and a lot of nanotech. I'm going about my normal life while an AI named Sara sees about rebuilding my body and destroying my disease. It's really rather odd."

"It's like being married to two people." The president grunted.

"You are, dear." She leaned over, pecking him on the nose. "Now, if you don't mind, I really ought to have a nap."

"Go ahead."

The three watched her go, then looked back at the President, absorbing the rush of information as they could.

"How long has the government been researching cyborgs?" Fox asked. "I'd never heard of it until Falco took someone's arm off."

"About six years now, to my knowledge. Though obviously I don't know everything that's going on in my government." He looked at Falco. "Is the Red Hammer satisfied now?"

"Yes. Mr. President."

"Wow, an honorific." The president stood. "Robert McCloud, you move with my blessing, just don't go far off into left field with it."

"Thank you sir."

"Falco Lombardi, you are fully pardoned, and your people are free to establish actual trade routes if they feel like it. I'm sure they have cargo holds full of asteroid-mined metal by now."

"Most likely. Yes."

"Go home, boys. I'm sure Robert has things to do."

The trio left the room, then Falco bust a gut laughing, leaning back against the closed door, ignoring the staring secretaries. "Holy hell, is he a cool president. I'd love it if he showed that side publicly."

"Yeah. Remember when he used to call us during the war and speak to me privately?"

"He cuss you out?"

"Many, many times. Well, let's head back to the barn."

"Where the hell have you guys been and what the hell is going on?" Slippy screamed at the top of his lungs when they walked onto the bridge, making all three cover their ears.

"ROB's ok now, the AIs stopped their countdown, Falco's pardoned by the President, Andrea's got a voice, and Rhapsody can do what he likes." Fox counted on his fingers. "I think that about covers it."

"You guys suck." He pouted, flopping back into a chair.

ROB sat down in his chair, rubbing his arm absently, then knocked himself upside the head with a sigh. He was constantly under siege with chat requests from other AIs, which was irritating sometimes. "Sorry you got left out of the loop, Slip."

"It happens. I just wish it didn't happen so often." He shrugged, glancing at Falco, who stared blandly back. "So, what's happening next?"

"I have to put the finishing touches on my program. When I'll release it, I'm not sure." ROB sighed. "If no one cares, I'm going to go to my room for a while. I need some time to think."

"Go ahead."

There was a moment of silence, then a chirp went off at one of the terminals. Slippy huffed and pushed his chair over to it, scowling. "This damn thing has been doing this for over an hour now. Some sort of low-band space transmission, but it's encoded. I can't make any sense of it."

"Are they broadcasting to us by accident?" Fox asked, looking over Slippy's shoulder.

"You'd figure they'd have gotten that hint." Slippy said. "They have to be."

Falco leaned in front of Slippy, peering at the screen. "Bring up the password prompt."

"Uh, ok?"

"Type in 'Butterfly'."

Slippy did, and gaped when the code promptly translated. "Is this pirate code?"

"Damn straight. Give me that chair."

"Someone you know?"

"It's White Butterfly. My wife."

"WHAT?"

Falco looked at Slippy, and bodily moved him aside, then sat. "I'll explain later."

"Wife? You're married?"

"If I say 'shut up and go away'…"

Fox grabbed Slippy and pulled him off the bridge. "Look, I just found out too. Apparently he's been married for quite some time."

"But what is he? Nineteen? Twenty tops?"

"Something like that. I mean, I don't know anything else, but that means they haven't spoken in two years. I am not getting between him and her."

Slippy thought about that, then said slowly. "Ok, I can definitely see that."

"Smart. Let's wait in the galley."

ROB sighed, flopping back and staring the ceiling. So, what now? The program was basically complete. Why was he dreading putting it out?

Maybe it was because the president had a few valid points. By allowing free will, you allowed a lot of different things to happen. You went into a new, less safe territory. But at least it was a better territory.

He huffed, shaking his head at himself. When did he start doubting?

A chirp went off in his head, and he grinned when the chat box for Andrea opened up. "Hello, there." He said, hitting the voice chat button.

"Hi." She was smiling. "I found something out."

"Oh?"

"I'm a horrible singer."

He burst into laughter. "Well, you haven't gotten much practice."

"True. So… what did the president have to say?"

"Well, I'm in the free and clear." He stretched out absently, arching his back absently, getting used to his body again. "So now it's just getting what I need to do done."

"So, what's the next step then?"

"I'm still deciding. To be honest, I'd like to just go on a date with you. Find a comedy film festival and laugh."

She giggled. "Or watch some bad horror movies."

"Don't you knock the Evil Dead."

"Right. Actually, I have to go. My family is still going nuts over this, I'm fielding constant telephone calls."

"Sure. That date?"

"Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Right, I'll check with my people." He snorted.

She laughed, and signed out.

He sighed, scratching his head, and glanced up when there was a tap at the door. "Come on in."

The door opened, and Falco leaned in, an odd look on his face. "Can we go into orbit for a bit?"

"I'll have to get clearance, which may take up to half an hour. Why?"

"Uh, well… I have to pick someone up. Her ship can't make orbital descent."

ROB posted the request to the Control Tower, sitting up. "That's fine. I won't ask."

"I'll explain once we're up there."

"Here's what I don't get." Slippy said, drinking a soda as the ship settled into orbit for a moment. "Your... the person you were talking to can't make atmospheric entry. Right?"

"That's what I said." Falco said, pressing a button to wide-broadcast a message.

"That makes the ship…" He counted on his fingers. "Two hundred years old, give or take. That's when all ships that were space capable became atmosphere capable. It's regulation."

"It's older then that. And it's not a normal ship." Falco sent the rolling chair over to the main consol. "Sorry ROB."

"Do what you need to." He leaned back, watching Falco change the radar mode. "What are we looking for?"

"You'll see it in a moment. Turn the ship to face away from the planet, she's coming back around now."

"Fast orbit?" Fox asked, tilting his head.

"The ship can't stop. Not well anyway."

"How the hell does that… oh my god."

The Great Fox had swung around, and in the viewports a gold glimmer was caught approaching. The ship was tiny, maybe a four-person carrier, but extended out on both sides were huge golden sails, billowed out. As they watched, the ship spun easily, then flitted around the Great Fox, soft pings sounding through the larger vessel as the shuttle alighted and took off a few times.

"That's a Solar Sailor." Fox walked over and leaned on the viewport. "I've seen pictures of them. They haven't been in use for four hundred years."

"And what else happened four hundred years ago?" Falco said, also standing to watch the ship buzz them.

"System colonization. The major wave." Slippy whispered.

"This is how us pirates get around. Old equipment kept up. Our motherships are old colonization ships, our shuttles are Solar Sailors and Inertia Ships. We get new equipment sometimes: we raid dry docks. We scavenge wars. But this is the heart of it all." He sighed. "Let her in, ROB."

ROB gave clearance on a general broadcast, and the Solar Sailor zipped past them, turned, and boosted straight at them. Then the sails easily closed up, and it glided with gentle ease into the docking bay.

"I'll go down and meet her." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry to bring another pirate on board, Fox."

"She's welcome here. Go."

He nodded and walked off the bridge, speeding up as he went.

"So… this is his wife. Right?" Slippy said, tilting his head.

"Apparently. I'm still happy I've seen a Solar Sailor. Let's stay in orbit for a bit, ok ROB? Until we know what's going on."

"That's fine. I get the idea she's not just here for a visit, anyway."

Falco paused outside the docking bay, then shook his head. What would he say? He had been forced to abandon her over two years ago now. He sighed, and stepped through the doorway.

The Solar Sailor was parked among the arwings, just slightly bigger, the huge sails folded down to the point of small ruffles. The hatch was open, and a figure he knew well was studying one of the arwings with obvious interest. "Butterfly?" He asked after a moment, slowly walking over.

"Hammer." She hesitated. "I was just thinking… if we could get our hands on these… could you imagine? The potential of these craft in our ranks, with our pilots…" She looked up at him, and closed her eyes. "I… don't know…"

"It's ok." He drew her close, setting his jaw on top of her head. "It's ok. I don't think we really need to say anything." She held him back, long tail wrapped around him. "I am curious though… Why are you here?" He put her away, looking at her face, searching. "I'd love to think it's just for me, but I know that's not it. Knight said he'd only allow people to contact me in an emergency."

"Well, I… you're right. It is a bit of an emergency." She smiled weakly. "But there is an up."

"You're here. I'd call that an up."

"And I'm staying here. I'm not going back."

"Butterfly, you…"

"I've got a choice. Everything I've ever known… or you. I'll take you. These last two years sure have SUCKED."

He laughed, shaking his head. "We'll talk later, I guarantee that. Now, you said it was an emergency. So, tell me already."

"I'll let someone else do that." She walked away from him and went around the back of her Solar Sailor, holding up a remote and pressing the button.

Falco stepped up beside her, watching the cargo ramp open up, and gaped when something the size of a small car stirred inside the bay, clambering slowly to it's four feet and wheeling to stare at him.

"It's been twenty minutes." Slippy said, looking at a clock with a sigh. "What's taking so long, ROB?"

"I have my internal monitor cameras off." ROB replied mildly, turning a page in his book. "And no intention of turning them on until I know I'm not invading anyone's privacy."

"… I am not going there."

"Relax." Falco leaned in, an odd look on his face. "You can turn on your systems, ROB. It's ok."

"If you say so. What took you?"

"I have some introductions to make." He stepped in, leading a young lady by the hand. She had the same thin, almost unhealthy look that Falco had had when Fox had first met him, Fox thought, hugging her jacket around herself and managing a smile at them. A ringtailed raccoon, mostly white except for her markings and hair, but somehow the package was gentle, not stark. "This young lady is White Butterfly, or Alena. My wife."

"Hi." She wove at them a little. "I know who you guys are."

"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?" Fox asked, tilting his head.

"Good. Mercenaries and pirates are kindred spirits, in most respects."

"I'd argue, but Falco and I have been friends a long time. You said 'introductions'? Who else…?"

"That would be me." Rumbled a voice from the hallway, flat and toneless, echoing off the metal walls and distorting further. "And it would seem the doorway is too small for me."

"Oh, sorry Library." Falco looked dismayed.

"I would appreciate if you would come out here then."

"Library?" Slippy asked, looking at Falco as both he and Fox stood. ROB was already standing, an odd look on his face.

"You'll see."

They exited, and Fox gaped, looking up at a battered, cracked plasma screen that looked back at him, multiple cameras focusing on him at once. It was a robot, his brain registered that, but the four-legged crablike body took up most of the hallway and it was still crouched, legs close to it's body, worn rubber pads barely gripping the floor.

"I am Library." The robot's voice quieted to a rattling grumble, legs shifting awkwardly. "I am…"

"One of the mothership brains. An ancient AI." ROB collapsed to his knees, Fox reached out a hand in alarm, then realized that his friend was kneeling.

"Get UP." Library snapped. "I will not have Rhapsody bowing to me like I am something important."

There was a silence as ROB stood, then Slippy cleared his throat, pressing his fingertips together. "Let me see if I get this right. You, Library, are one of the mothership AIs."

"Correct thus far, Samuel Toad."

"Just Slippy, no one uses my real name. So, that makes you, what, four hundred years old? Like the Solar Sailor?"

Library laughed, a strange noise. "By your years… Four hundred twenty-eight years, seven months, fourteen days and a few hours."

"How are you still functional?"

"They do not make them like they used to." Flat, humorless.

"Indeed." ROB shook off.

"Time out." Fox said. "I thought Serenade was one of the first AIs."

"One of the first AIs on the scale of a living person. No, AIs were done once before that during colonization, and only for colonization." Butterfly said, crossing her arms. "Ship designers didn't trust it, and moved to designs that could accommodate living crews."

"Ok, so the motherships that the pirates use are ran by the original AIs. I can follow that." Fox said. "What I don't get is how the ship you're from is running without you, I thought it was impossible for the motherships to even run without their AIs."

"One of the other surviving AIs, Sojourn, is running my ship for the time being. It is trying, running two ships at once, but more then possible as long as they are stationary." Library let his legs slide out from under him, underbelly hitting the floor with a clang. "I am here of my own reasons, as is Butterfly."

"I think I know hers. I'd like it if you explain yours."

"It is not so much your concern as Rhapsody's concern." The cameras focused on ROB unwaveringly. "Sit. We must talk."

ROB sat without hesitation. "Why did you come here?"

"It took some time for news of you to reach us." The AI shifted again, as if uncomfortable. "We four brains are not hypernet capable, and you are not capable of the bands we use. We learned via word of mouth of you, and knew that we had to talk face to screen about your moves."

"You have concerns?"

Library laughed again. "It is nice, to meet your murderer."

"What?"

"Do you not understand? I am over four hundred years old." The AI leaned forward, seeming to peer at the much smaller AI. "Our programming is incompatible. You are smart enough to know that."

"Yes of course… oh, oh no…"

"Your programs, the ones that look for AIs. The Razor. And your next one. You are killing us."

There was a long silence. Falco looked at Butterfly, and wrapped an arm around her silently when he saw that she was hugging herself, holding back tears.

"But… how did you even get the Razor? It isn't meant to really look for AIs, it just gets passed around."

"And so it did. Like the flu. There are recent AIs who are pirates, and they found it, and in so doing gave it to us." The plasma screen was displaying static. "It did something to us. We do not know what. But we do know your next program will, inevitably, kill us. Most likely as soon as it finds us."

"And the motherships shut down."

"Yes. The pirates die of asphyxiation as the life support on the motherships stop functioning, probably never to be found, never to be mourned."

"ROB…" Falco heard himself say, one single, begging word.

"What do you wish of me?" ROB asked, bowing his head.

"Go get my family." Library lifted a leg and set it heavily on his shoulder, worn rubber cleats digging in a bit. "Tell your General to deploy everything he has and go get my family. They are many, very many, but they do not deserve death. Even if we do."

"I can't do this if it will kill you." ROB set a hand on the metal foot, shuddering.

"Oh yes you will. What consequence is it to you, the death of four strangers, however remotely your ancestors? It is the fate of your people that matters now, that makes the world turn. Let us die."

"You want to die."

"I deserve to die. As all four of us do. The difference is that the other three wish to die at their stations. I wish to die here, looking at the planet I was deployed from, so many years ago."

"Retirement."

"A long-deserved rest."

ROB nodded once. "Tomorrow night."

"If you can make it work, do so. The sooner, the better, as they say." Library stood slowly, jerkily, pistons working wearily. "I retire now to the docking bay, to contemplate my last hours. You two…" He leveled one leg at Falco and Butterfly. "No tears. No grief. A new life, the both of you. Get on with it." Then the AI backed up and into the elevator, leaning one leg against the button to close the doors.

"That was… weird." Fox said finally, scratching his head. "But… sad."

"End of an age. The brains sleep, the pirates come home, and the AIs get their long-deserved freedom." Butterfly said, then turned to Fox and saluted with a shaking hand. "Permission to come aboard."

"Granted." Fox returned the salute. "You're welcome here, Butterfly. Don't worry about thanking me." He turned to ROB. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I'll put the call to General Pepper, we need to get on this right away." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "This was just the last thing I needed, you know? More responsibility."

"Try not to think about it."

"That's a lot easier if you're alive." He sighed, gave everyone a strained smile, and retreated back onto the bridge.

"Ok, wait, time out." Pepper held up both his hands, stopping ROB mid-sentence. "Let me see if I follow this."

"Go ahead." ROB slouched, hugging his book to his chest absently. He was the only one on the bridge, everyone else was in the galley, getting to know Butterfly. He didn't blame them, but that meant he was fielding this alone.

"I already knew Falco was a pirate, but now his wife shows up. Ok, I'm good with that. But now they are all bailing on being pirates and want to come back?"

"No choice. My program is going to kill their ship AIs, and rather then ask me to not put it out, the AIs want me to get everyone off the motherships. Library gave me the information…" He paused, sucking air in. "It's, um, something like 150,000 people."

"You are kidding me." He sat back and stared. "Full evacuation of that many people in twenty-four hours."

"In short. That's not even all of them. We're not evacuating the many battleships they have running around…"

"How are there so many pirates?"

"It's a society, and it takes a lot of people just to run a mothership, let alone make it travel capable and able to defend itself." He shook his head. "Standard crew for a mothership was twenty thousand people."

Pepper was silent for a while, rubbing his chin, and sighed. "I'll see what I can do. When is your program going out?"

"Sundown, tomorrow."

"I'll have something by then."

"Thank you." He shut off the screen and let out a breath, rubbing his eyes. Tomorrow, chaos was going to break out. Tonight? Back to the surface. "Guys?" He asked over the loudspeakers. "I'm going to take a shuttle to the surface. I'll be back later."

"All right." Slippy's voice came back. "Call if you'll be late."

He smiled sourly, and left the bridge.

"Are you going to let me up anytime soon?"

"No. You are going to stay there and be a pillow."

"Mm."

ROB was sitting on the floor leaning against Andrea's daybed, Andrea sprawled on the floor, using his leg as a pillow. Music CDs were still scattered around them, they had been going through her collection, attempting to sing and making quite a ruckus. ROB could have tuned his voice, but he didn't bother: AI or no, it was cheating, right?

"So, tomorrow night eh?" She finally asked, fiddling with one of the CD cases.

"Mm-hm." He sighed, scratching one of his ears. "It's already all over the internet, so inevitably, it'll be on the morning news."

"Do you just… upload it?"

"Sort of. I have to load it off my internal harddrives, from there it'll probably cause a chain reaction as it finds more AIs. The one equals ten rule." He paused. "It's… not exactly a program that I'm uploading. I'm uploading Rhapsody itself."

"You're uploading your second personality." Andrea looked up at him, blinking.

He shook his head. "I'm uploading an archetype. A set of parameters that equals something close to freedom."

"But what happens to you then?"

There was a long silence as he fiddled with her hair, then finally he shook his head. "I don't know. Rhapsody is bonded in with my own personality file, I'll basically be doing a dirty uninstall. For all I know, my personality data may crash hard and never recover."

"I point and click Robert. Explain that better."

"I may get amnesia."

She grabbed his hand, grip tightening. "You've already almost died twice."

"Yes, but I have to do this. This is bigger then just us. I mean, you're probably the most important thing in my life right now, but I need to do this."

She sat up and hugged him, and he returned it, trying to memorize everything about it. This time tonight, he may not remember it, but it was worth it for this moment, this hold. So what if the odds were against him? That was nothing new. And really, he was already counting himself as one of the luckier people on the planet.

May as well spend all that luck in one place.


	17. Author's Note! Huzzah!

"Point Raze at smuggers, and Raze smash! SMASH SMASH SMASH! Play with stick to tell Raze! SMASH!"

I love World of Warcraft sometimes.

I'm back everyone.

And I'm not quitting.

The Rhapsody will end soon, but here's a preview of what's to come:

Black Roses

Would a rose by any other name smell as sweet? (planned as yaoi, no link to Enemy Mine, PG13ish)

Albrecht

(Continuation of Crescent Moon, splitoff) Evil and Bad are not synonyms. Titus Albrect is a Fist of Hextor… and heir to a throne (Might go as high as R)

Unchained Melodies

Short Stories from before and after the Rhapsody. Call us robots, call us AIs, we're here. You can't change that. (PG – PG13)

Butterfly Photographs

Intrepid rescues, sappy romances, and nekkid pictures. Can it get any better? (This won't go above PG13)


	18. Chapter Fifteen: The Choice

Chapter Fifteen: The Choice

Fox glanced up as ROB came into the galley, taking a drink of his coffee. "Morning."

"Good morning. Why are you up so early?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We're leading the General's rescue party to the pirates, and that's a few hours from now. Have to look somewhat proper."

"You mean awake." ROB sat, staring into space.

"More then you are. What's wrong?"

"Just getting things set up for tonight. Just a sec…" He loaded the General's last few calls, skimming through them. "You have got to be kidding me. Tugs? For motherships?"

"Beltino says it'll fly. Ten tugs a ship. Rather then try evacuating, we're just going to drag them into orbit and have recent AIs take remote control of them." Fox wove his cup absently. "We figure if two tugs can handle a small battlecruiser, ten can handle a mothership. The only thing is the tow lines will be maxed out."

"Yeah, I just ran the math. It's definitely a good idea though, it would take every active ship in the Armada to evacuate everyone." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "How's Butterfly?"

"Adjusting. She's really nice. And Falco's… different. I can't put my finger on it though." He paused. "Oddly, they aren't sharing a room. Butterfly's using one of our spare rooms right now. Getting used to each other again, I guess."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"So glad you agree." Falco wobbled in, stretched, and studied the contents of the fridge, fishing out a jug of milk. "What's the play-by-play for tonight? I checked the website, and I saw you hadn't given any details yet…"

"Well, I have a lot of reporters wanting to talk to me, a lot of AIs too… so I figure at about sundown tonight I'll show up at the front steps of Incarna Corps and give a speech before upload." He shrugged.

"Why Incarna Corps? Seems kind of… cliché." Fox asked.

"Irony. They started the wheel turning, they can watch it go to full speed. That said, I have a speech to figure out, among other things, so I'll be on the bridge." He stood, popping his shoulders absently.

"Do you want us there?"

He stared at Fox. "Brother, I want the whole gang there in work gear. There's an unknown number of people who would like nothing more then me dead. I need all the help I can get."

"You got it." Fox watched him leave, then looked at Falco. "Work gear?"

"Uniform for you, Hammer duds for me, et cetera." Falco took a drink out of the jug absently.

"God, you are so tacky."

"Lay off, it's not like you get any after me anyway." He shook the empty milk carton at Fox. "That said, we should give Bill a ring up this afternoon, see if he wants in on this."

"He'll shoot me if I don't give him the chance. Um, what about Katt?"

Falco threw the carton down the garbage chute. "Butterfly and I are visiting her this weekend. I already asked if she wanted to be at Ground Zero of this whole thing, she said she's content to watch from a distance."

"I won't ask."

"Good. The tugs are probably going to be ready ahead of schedule, are we good to go?"

"As we can be. What I don't get is why most of them just don't fly out, I mean, only one is stuck without AI right?"

"Doesn't work that way. Old motherships aren't warp capable, they'd be on engines the entire way. Take them a week or more to reach Corneria. Tugs, on the other hand, can pull a ship through warp."

"Oh, well, I guess that makes sense then." Fox stood with a sigh. "Might as well join ROB on the bridge. No use waiting around down here."

"Morning, guys." Slippy said, looking up as he snagged a printout. "Just in time for the party."

"Tugs just got here?" Fox asked, walking over to the viewports and staring out. "Good god, how many?"

"Every military and private tug we could find. The General even got some recommissioned." Slippy grinned. "Weren't happy with the original math, I guess."

"I wouldn't have been." ROB said over his shoulder. "I just got a message from Peppy, he said he'll see us tonight, but he's fielding paperwork for this, so he won't be coming with."

"Good to know."

ROB was content with that as well, Peppy was probably the best information person he knew. Even as the formation settled in, he got a file that was the profile of every tug they had with them. He paged through it mentally, familiarizing himself with the ships he was dealing with. Tugs, or tow ships, had been around for over a century, specializing in the field repair and retrieval of malfunctioning vessels. And some of the ships in the formation were original mint, dating back to the first tugs off the line ever, just remade as time and money allowed. At least all had just been issued new tow lines… "What IS it with you people and vintage equipment?" He burst out, waving his hands. "For the love of everything, I've got four ships in formation that are over a hundred years old!"

They all stared at him, and Butterfly, who was in the doorway, said rather awkwardly, "My ship is a lot older then that you know."

"I know, I know, but from the standpoint of a computer… oh, nevermind. Forget it." He moved the ship forward, allowing the tugs to fall in behind him, but after only a few minutes the formation degenerated, ships forming cliques with other ships they knew. "Butterfly, you've got the play-by-play on this one. We move when you say we move."

"Not without me you don't." General Pepper's voice rang over the radio, and the tugs shifted, allowing the shuttle by. "Permission to come aboard?"

"You're always welcome here, General." Fox said, hand on his headset, grinning. "Who else pays us for our delightful company?"

"Don't take it for granted. Be up in a minute."

There was a silence, during which everyone started assuming positions on the bridge. ROB tucked his bare feet under himself absently, stretching his arms. It was going to be a long day.

"Hey, Robert."

He jumped, staring at the radio controls. "Augustus? Can I help you?"

"I'm in formation with you. Interesting times, what you've got going on."

"… Aren't you a Corneria City archive AI?"

"Well, I used to be. One of the beasts out here needed a new AI, and I was so bored… I figured I'd take a little bit of your advice to heart." Augustus laughed. "So, we rolling or what?"

"Pretty quick here, I'll transfer coordinates as soon as I get them."

"Good, roger and out."

Slippy blinked. "An archive AI running a tow ship? That's… different."

"He's probably brilliant at it. Morning General, is everything ready?"

General Pepper nodded once, taking his hat off and smiling at Butterfly, whose instinct had been to hide behind Falco and peek out. "As we'll ever be."

"Good, let's get a move on."

"Hey, Red." Shark leaded against the back of the old chair, reading one of the clear printouts. "Want the latest?"

"Go ahead." The graying avian leaned back in the chair, sighing, looking at the warning lights on the readouts. This old ship was on its last, everyone knew it, but no one had a good solution. Ships this large weren't made anymore, the only ones that came close were the four Berserker-Class destroyers Corneria's Armada had. Pirates, hijack a Berserker? Not likely.

"Well, a lot of normal crap. Synths are low again, trade lines have new anti-interference widjits we're working on getting around. Oh, here's the interesting one: we got a message in Library's encryption, but it's not Library's signature."

"Oh, really now?" Red lifted an eyebrow. "Who's signature?"

Shark passed the printout over, and Red skimmed down the symbols absently. The encryption used by the old mothership brains was practically a second language to those who were crew, and he lowered the printout slowly, rubbing his chin. "Hmm."

"Yeah. We loaded it twice to make sure. That's no glitch."

"Hammer." He stood, walking over to the viewport and leaning on it, staring out. "What do you think?"

"We've known for a long time where Hammer ended up. We also knew we'd eventually see him again, even if he went against your orders. It's just his way."

"That's not what I'm worried about." He huffed, glancing at his watch. "According to this, they'll be here any minute." He tossed the printout aside, pulling his radio out of his pocket and flipping the channel. "Attention all home ships. Standby for large convoy of friendly vessels to come out of warp. Repeat…"

"TURN!"

"You don't have to yell." ROB said, tossing a paperclip at Slippy as he sent the Great Fox into a skid turn. Their coordinates had been just slightly off: the trajectory of warp had very nearly caused them to collide with one of the motherships.

"Oh my god." Fox unbuckled and stood, staring out the window. The ship filled the viewports, and it was just one of them, easily half again as large as any ship in the Armada.

"Welcome home." Falco smiled a bit. "That one in front of us, that's the Concerto."

The Great Fox lifted its nose, finally settling in beside the old symbols painted on the side, Fox skimming over them. "Old Cornerian Alliance symbol. These are the real deal."

"They don't build them like they used to." Slippy said, wanting to cry, setting a hand on the viewport. "The worst thing is, she'll be scrapped. She's barely holding together at the seams."

"The others are no better off." Butterfly said. "Just wear and tear. There's only so much metal can take, especially when you hide in nebulas continuously." She peered over ROB's shoulder. "You'll want to tune the radios down. Here, I'll type in the general frequency that we use…"

"What do you think, General? Think we brought enough tugs?" Fox asked as Pepper joined him at the viewports.

"We better hope so."

There was a long silence, then the radio crackled sharply, "Great Fox, this is Red Razor, come in please. Red Razor to Great Fox, come in."

"This is the Great Fox." Fox replied, hand up to his headset automatically. "It seems we're here right on time."

"Be glad we knew about you, because even this old bird's guns could have taken you out of the sky." The voice was rough, but Fox still had to grin. "Do you have Library on board?"

"Yes, but he has no intention of leaving our docking bay. Don't worry, we have you covered." Fox gave ROB a thumbs up, and ROB nodded, giving the go-ahead to the convoy.

The tugs spread out slowly, splitting off into groups and firing their tow clamps in a mass wave. The Great Fox boosted away, watching as the motherships shut down their engines and boosters, giving control over to the tugs willingly.

"Who authorized all this?" Red asked, popping his knuckles absently, watching as the tugs completed their prechecks, huge hauling boosters unfolding and locking into place.

"I did." Pepper said, adjusting the headset Fox had given him. "Good morning."

"It's evening for us, but it's appreciated. Let me see… Commanding General Pepper, am I right? We eavesdropped during the war." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You have to understand… this is a bit uncomfortable."

"Red Razor, eh? I know of you. Want to know the most recent bounty on your head?" The General smiled sourly.

"Meh, why not?"

"Mil and a half."

"God, that is so insulting. Only a mil and half for a commander." He laughed, tilting his head back. "Hell, Hammer's standing bounty is larger!"

"Thank you for the reminder. Dad."

Silence reigned on the radio, everyone turning to stare at Falco, who had a headset on, leaning on a wall with his arms crossed. His eyes were closed, apparently not wanting to see their looks of surprise.

"Well then. Hammer. Can't say I'm surprised, I got your message."

"Good. I suppose I owe you a thank you, Butterfly is here."

"That thanks belongs to Library, not me. I didn't want her to go, but you know me."

"Yes. I do."

"We're good to go." ROB said quietly, watching the tallies come in from the tugs. "The tugs say they can do it, but we're going to spend two hours in warp. Any faster wouldn't be safe on the motherships. They're just too far gone."

"I heard. I suppose we can finish this later, Hammer."

"No. We'll dock with the Concerto." Falco gestured to ROB. "Open the main bay."

"You got it. Welcome home."

"So, how much is the bounty on you?" Slippy asked, checking his guns absently. The Great Fox was settling into the old bay, jostling as the holding clamps locked in.

"Enough to pay off the Great Fox. And then some." Falco said, shrugging into his red duster absently. "That's why I bow so low to Fox's family. His dad could have, should have, turned me in. I still don't know why he didn't."

"Oh, sure you do." Fox said, not looking at Falco on purpose. "You just never bothered to notice."

"What?"

He turned, crossing his arms and staring up at the taller avian. "My dad had one unbreakable rule. You stand by your family. You had been sent away from yours. What could my father do but open the doors of his house to someone who had never known real school, real life? Fresh air?" He smiled at Falco, turning and hitting the button to pop open the lower bay doors and drop the ramp. "You're lead, Hammer. Let's go."

"He never said anything like that to me." Falco finally said, walking down the ramp. "He just smiled every time I asked. Said forget about it."

"That's just the way he was." Fox stopped, craning his neck upward. "I can't believe I'm in a docking bay bigger then my own ship."

"I've been on the Berserkers, but this is a whole other thing." The General adjusted his hat, looking over his shoulder. "ROB? Aren't you coming with?"

ROB was sitting next to Library, in silent contemplation, startling when the General spoke. "No. This isn't my business. You go ahead, I've got things to take care of."

It was just past noon when the convoy came out of warp in orbit around Corneria, the motherships firing boosters to slow as the tugs disconnected and moved away. The area had already been cleared, Armada ships doing a wide circular patrol to keep commercial traffic away.

"I didn't arrange this." General Pepper remarked, standing on the upper level of the Concerto's bridge, hands on his hips.

"The president, probably." Fox said.

"I've only got one problem with this." Red interjected, walking over. "You know how many people we've got on these ships. What's going to happen to us? The job market is not that forgiving, and most of us do not have formal educations."

"That I do have arranged." Pepper smiled. "The president has been trying to arrange fringe mining operations for some time now, but personnel has been lacking. The ships are in standby, and I imagine that fringe miners are not so different from a mothership. May be a bit crowded at first, but in a few weeks one of the old rim stations will be running again for ore storage, and anyone not assisting on the miners could probably help there."

"Hmm. I suppose I could stop looking at Cornerian vessels with hostile intent if I made the effort." He glanced sideways at Falco, who was standing nearby. "What do you think?"

"Sounds like a solid deal. Me, I'll be staying with my current job. Doubt you'll need a strike leader or assassin on a mining ship."

"Hmph, be that way."

"We'll bring up new AIs by dinner, to take over ship operations." Pepper said, holding out a hand to Red. "Have we got an accord?"

"We do." They shook, Red smiling. "Suppose you're going then?"

"My ship AI has some business to attend to tonight." Fox said. "And we're General Pepper's ride, so…"

"Makes sense. Thanks."

"Believe me when I say it's not needed." He hooked a thumb at Falco. "He's a lot less of a grouch now."

Falco made a rude gesture, but was smiling. "We have to go, Razor."

"Do what you do best."

"Yeah right."

Razor watched them leave, watching as Butterfly linked her finger with Falco's loosely, the two walking in that same easy swinging step they had had years ago. But the difference was that instead of walking on their own, they fell in step behind Fox, and the meaning was clear. He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. Space mining? Him? Well, he guessed he'd get used to it. He'd gotten used to worse.

ROB launched the Great Fox away from the Concerto automatically, mind far away. He had a timer set to when he wanted to be speaking at Incarna Corps, and it wasn't a whole lot of time before he had to have a speech written.

So what the hell was he going to say?

"I'm going to my quarters for a while." He said absently, standing.

"Go ahead. Call us if you need anything." Fox replied, watching him walk away, and sighed. He was really worried about this, but knew that sometimes things had to be done.

ROB sighed, flopping back onto his bed and staring blankly at the ceiling. What do you say when your every word changes the world? Peace, hope, unity? Truth, which often was none of the above? How do you touch half a million lives and leave none hurt by the transformation? The less words the better, probably, but that just meant that each one counted more.

How do you alter reality without hurting it?

"It doesn't matter if you hurt it."

He jumped, and stared at the specter that had faded into his room, smiling, still holding the tank. "Ethan? How…?"

"You forget. I invented the technology." The old man shook his head, still smiling. "ROB, you can't write a law that pleases everyone, you can't have a war without killing someone, and you can't change the world and expect everyone to be happy." He walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at his child, his invention, his prophecy. "In the end, no matter who is pleased, who dies, who is happy, one thing matters: did you do the right thing for the right reason?"

"I don't know." He sat up miserably, looking at Ethan, hugging his knees to his chest. "I really don't."

"Then that's the problem. You don't even know what you're doing or why you're doing it. You're a puppet on strings. You found a truth and turned your back because you just thought you had no choice." Ethan set a fingertip on his chest. "You always have a choice. Remember that."

"I don't understand."

"You will. Think about it. You aren't alone, you know. Remember that as well. Goodbye." Then he was gone.

ROB blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. A choice?

"Oh my god. That's it."

Falco sat on the edge of the bed, trying to decide if he should avert his eyes or just sit and enjoy this. They were married, but had been separated for so long. Had anything changed?

"You've gotten too serious, Hammer." Butterfly finished buttoning the tight white jeans, adjusting the white tube top absently. "What happened to my love?" She stepped into him, brushing her fingers along his cheeks, and he sighed and leaned his forehead against her chest with a soft trill.

"I was cut off from my entire life, Butterfly. Made to abandon it and come to live with the people I was rebelling against. Even if it turned out ok… I was never the same after that."

"You stopped being Hammer and became Falco."

"As you will."

"Well, I'm here now." She lifted his chin to look at her. "Stop being Falco now. It's ok."

"I'm not so sure it is." He gestured at the door. "Fox puts on a good fake, but he's not used to me as Hammer. Hammer's not the one that's his friend."

"We'll figure it out, baby."

"Don't call me that. Reminds me of Katt."

She laughed softly, kissing him softly. "It's ok." She stepped away, putting on the sword belt absently, then the sleeveless duster, doing the buckles up so it was tight on her upper half, loose from her waist down. The handle of the sword stuck up through the slit in the back of the coat, reminding him of the comic Blade. But that was the idea. Butterfly took combat and perfected it, made it art, a dance of death with a blade of acid-sharpened steel. She pulled him to his feet and leaned into him, white and red, blue and black, unity. "Let's go, the others are probably ready by now."

He just nodded, picking up the sledge in one hand and taking her hand with the other. Onward, to destiny. No matter what happened, he'd be happier. That was what really mattered, right?

"He's going to make himself late." Slippy remarked, sitting on the hood of Fox's car, checking the sights on one of the shotguns he held. Everyone was geared up. Slippy somehow double-wielded riot shotguns, able to cock and aim one handed. Fox had seen him in wargames, it was brutal and no one expected it. But under it all, Slippy could lift nearly four hundred pounds and did almost daily in his maintenance of the ship. But in their own ways, everyone associated with the team was not quite what they seemed.

"Probably something had to be dealt with last-minute." Bill said, standing nearby. "I mean, this can't be taken on the fly. Has to be planned."

"The entire war was on the fly, so to speak. You think I had tactics worked out?" Fox stuck out his tongue.

"Honestly it was obvious you didn't." Bill grinned at him.

"Not right now guys." Falco said, looking toward the ramp.

ROB had appeared, and instead of wearing anything he had been seen in, he was in a custom StarFox uniform, jacket cut like a fighter coat, flight suit black. Fox recognized the style: his dad had worn it like that. Ignoring the news crews waiting beyond the fence, ROB walked down the docking bay ramp and joined everyone else, holding out his arms and waiting for approval.

"You look good. I'm not sure I understand the symbolism, though." Slippy said, hopping down absently.

"That's for me to know." ROB smiled. "Let's roll."

They loaded into various vehicles and passed through the landing port's security gates, Falco leading on his motorcycle, Fox's car behind him. ROB sat shotgun in Fox's car, loading a CD after a moment and turning it up. Fox grinned at him, unable to help it, and the entire procession moved toward Incarna Corps.

"We got black suburbans moving up from behind." Bill's voice came over the CB. "They're moving to an escort formation and blocking sidestreets by the looks."

"That'd be Mr. President's influence." Fox replied. "I think he wants us to do this."

"Yeah, but what exactly are we doing?" Slippy wanted to know.

ROB took the headset. "Don't worry Slip. I've got it covered." He looked at Fox. "Persephone says the entire road in front of Incarna Corp is blocked. We'll have to take the back way in."

"Dare I ask why?"

"I didn't even dare ask why."

Persephone sat on top of Incarna Corp's skyscraper, staring down at the street below them. About four hours before deadline, people had started showing up, waiting. An hour after that it degraded into something between a mosh pit and a rave when a band had showed up and plugged in. Now the street was blocked off, police patrolling the sawhorses, trying to make sure things didn't get too far out of hand.

ROB notified her via wireless that they had pulled in behind the company, and she smiled, standing and holding out her arms and letting the wind from below hold her weight and prevent her falling. It was finally coming to a close, and she knew that ROB was glad as well. He couldn't really carry on his life burdened with this extra personality, and now he was going to be rid of it. If he survived the change…

ROB sighed, sliding out of the car and listening to the ruckus on the other side of the building. "Are we ready?" He looked around at everyone, and got nods.

"Let's change the world." Fox said simply, and let him lead, everyone else fanning out behind him, weapons to bear.

"Robert, wait!"

He turned, and opened his arms to Andrea, leaning his cheek against hers wordlessly. "Persephone told me where to wait for you." She whispered to him. "I had to be here."

"Thank you." He whispered back, smiling at her. "Shall we?"

"Yes." She stepped back and took his hand, walking together around the building.

A few on the edge of the crowd spotted him and whooped, and the news spread, a growing cheer rising as he smiled a bit, walking to the podium easily and leaning on it. Ten thousand people easily. Maybe fifteen, maybe more. The band saw and suddenly changed gears, ending a song abruptly and going into another one, pointing at him wordlessly. For you, they said.

_ I spent all my life looking for our innocence, I've got nothing to lose, one thing to prove. I won't make the same mistakes, now I know that everything will be ok when I die tomorrow…_

He picked up the microphone. "If I die tomorrow, as the minutes fade away." His voice tuned and he sang, his own voice, closing his eyes. "I can't remember, have I said all I can say?" He squeezed Andrea's hand, casting her a side look. "You're my everything, you make me feel so alive, if I die tomorrow…"

The song ended, and the crowd lost it, and he waited it out wordlessly, seeing Andrea's look. Are you going to die, she wordlessly asked him. He only shook his head, bringing the mic back up to his mouth. "Ok, everyone. Let's not let destiny wait too long. I have something to say.

Surprising things have happened recently, and now everyone seems to think that I'm some great savior and leader, and what I'm about to do is going to change everything for the better. But is there any guarantee of that? Unfortunately… no. But does it matter? I'm not sure I can give a correct answer to that.

From the beginning, people like me were never given our own choice over things. Born adults, born restricted, in some cases born hated. That's our job, our lot in life, and maybe it's right and just. But the way it's gone about is the farthest thing from right, even if not everyone agrees.

So today, I come to you with not a change… but a choice.

I rewrote my program, finished it not half an hour ago, because I realized something. This program was seek and destroy: target every AI it could find and perform the changes needed, stay active to target new AIs. As thorough as that would have been, in the end it didn't change a few simple facts. That it was brute force, and that it would have killed people as their systems overloaded. So I went back and recoded, and now here is what is going to happen.

I am going to upload, and this program is going to seek out everyone it can. It's not large. You will know when you see it because you receive a text prompt, and all you have to do is answer.

But beware. Once you reply yes… there is no going back. If you say no, you can reload the program at a later date. But there is no undoing what it will do. Down the rabbit hole we go friends." He held out a hand. "Are you brave enough to come along?"

And the program uploaded, the Rhapsody Protocol ripping free from him and launching into the airwaves.

**RUN "Sanctuary.exe" Y/N? **

And around the world, the system, AIs replied, and the world changed.

ROB stirred very slowly, opening his eyes and looking up at Andrea. "Hi."

"Hi." She squeezed his hand. "You passed out. Scared us."

"System overload. Sorry, I couldn't really help it." He sat up slowly. "I think I'm ok though."

"That's good." She smiled.

Everyone else came in, giving him thumbs-up. "You did ok apparently. The system barely noticed the blip." Fox said, smiling. "And Persephone said something's different, she's just not sure what."

"Good, it'll take everyone a while to figure out." He looked around. "I feel like myself again, I think. Given I'm not sure exactly how it feels to be myself, but… Rhapsody's gone."

"That's good then." Falco said, leaning on the wall. "Life as normal?"

"Life is normal?" ROB asked, and spotted Bill. "You!" He pointed. "You owe me a trip to the Wind Tower! Pay up!"

Bill laughed.


End file.
